


The Inconveniences of Working Every Day

by orphan_account



Series: Percy Weasley Needs a Damn Hug [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, BUT IT ISN"T AN AU, Corruption, Depression, Dissociation, Dogs, Dysfunctional Family, Established Relationship, Family Drama, Family Issues, Fluff, French Food, I don't make the rules sorry, I guess it's just part of the ptsd, I meant for it to be a romantic comedy but i failed :(, I'm too hard on myself though I actually think it's great, Implied/Referenced Torture, In a way, Laziness, M/M, More fun stuff!, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Percy Weasley, Percy Weasley is a Dork, Percy Weasley is a Good Friend, Percy Weasley is also a Lovesick Fool, Percy Weasley-centric, Percy's got a thing going where he lies to himself all of the time, Post-Second War with Voldemort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Slash, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Ron Weasley is a Good Friend, The Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter) is Terrible, Unreliable Narrator, Writer Percy Weasley, Writing, awkward work situations, idk this is a mess, not completely confirmed but still present, side pairing is preslash sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2020-12-27 05:37:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21113549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Percy Weasley is estranged. Still working at the Ministry, he's assigned to a project with his father, the worst thing imaginable. As he works less and less, paralyzed by war memories, his family gets closer and closer back to his heart.Percy has Oliver Wood again, he has inspiration and creativity, even a book that could be published soon. So why can't he do anything right?





	1. Where Percy Rediscovers the Joys of Working, and his Friends are Annoying

**Author's Note:**

> Well this is a series. TBH it came to me in a dream  
I don't know what's wrong with me, but I haven't even introduced all the characters yet in the first chapter??? This is bad.

Percy hopped on one foot, pulling on his other shoe, and leaning down to tie it. He stood quickly, trying to smooth his hair, and grabbed his coat. For once, he had slept in, and now he was suffering the consequences. The dogs careened around the corner, sending Percy to cling to the side of the hallway. ‘Beau! Scarlett!’ He yelped, pushing them out of the way of his way to the door, flapping a hand at their matching sad expressions. ‘I’ll see you when I get home!’ he shouted, slipping out the door and locking it. 

Percy hated leaving his poor dogs, but he would never bring them to work. That would be an actual disaster. They were the most hyperactive animals he had ever met, and Fred and George owned pets when they were children. Percy could say without a doubt that his dogs were the most lively in the world and would cause a crisis if they were let loose. The Ministry was right across the street from his flat, so Percy could usually go over and take them for a walk on his lunch break if his dogwalker couldn’t do it that day.

Percy was almost late for work. He walked into the atrium at eight in the morning, speeding up as he passed the former Minister. It was his goal in life to avoid Cornelius Fudge’s beady little eyes for as long as humanly possible, so he kept his head down until he got into the lift, pressing the button for floor eight. 

He sat down at his desk, taking out a stack of parchment that he had to look through. He wasn’t quite sure why, but people tended to just give him things if they saw he wasn’t busy. He took the first page of the stack, and got to work, humming a Weird Sisters song under his breath as he read. 

The clock chimed for the hour, and he looked up, to where the little cuckoo bird that flew out was starting to terrorize nine people, one for every chime. For some inexplicable reason, he was never targeted. It wasn’t too much of a hardship, because the bird was a menace. 

After nine, his work was always done for the day, and he sent out half the stack of papers he’d read to whoever needed them next. Bureaucracy at its finest. The thing was, after the war was over, he wasn’t quite sure what he was supposed to do at work. The Ministry had needed leaders, and pragmatic people, and people who could show up every day. 

Percy had done all those things. He’d established unofficial safety exits that the Death Eaters didn’t know about, he had showed the other workers to keep their secrets and family and positions safe. He’d known what to do during the war, and more often than not, it wasn’t work. The only real work he’d done was to foil the government’s sinister plans to defeat the muggleborns. Paperwork suddenly would go missing, it would occasionally take months for it to work its way through the system, because there were so few people in the Ministry, and they were absolutely swamped, weren’t they?

He had kept half the Ministry running, and most of the employees alive. Now, though, he didn’t really have a job. People out of work had flocked to the Ministry, and there was plenty of work to go around for them. 

No work for Percy, though. He had it done by nine. So he’d established a pet project, if he liked to call it that. His book.

Someone cleared their throat. He jumped, startled, so he could look in the eyes of his boss. ‘Um, hello, Parkinson. What do you want to see me about?’ he asked.

Parkinson laughed, booming and happy, before pulling out Percy’s chair. ‘Come see me in my office! We have a lot to discuss,’ he said, escorting Percy into his office. To say he was nervous was an understatement. 

‘Yes? What is this about, then?’ he asked brightly. He had done nothing wrong, there wasn’t anything scary planned in that office.

‘Oh, nothing bad, of course. I wanted to give you a raise and a bit of a promotion, too. You’ll be working on a project, top secret, of course, to improve security in the Ministry. We’re assigning you some of our newer Aurors, and your father to help. He’s a war hero, technically, and he wanted to be at the Ministry, but he can’t have his old position back.’ Parkinson settled down, flicking the glass figurine of a unicorn on his desk. He seemed to be more nervous than Percy, and he was the one called into his office. 

Percy could see the war in his face. Parkinson, he remembered, was a year above him. His cousin, Pansy, was on trial a week ago, a seventeen year old on trial, he couldn’t imagine, for attempting murder of Harry Potter. The tears were visible on his face, and Percy blinked too, a few times. He remembered her coming in during Easter break and curling up with a book on the armchair in the back of the room. 

His mind whispered to him, another victim of war, and he felt another shot of adrenaline enter his veins. Percy was always such a Gryffindor, such a protector. ‘Yes, I’m sure. What will you want me to do?’ he asked, gentle, always gentle when people had gotten like this. Had Parkinson been any higher up in the twisted hierarchy of the Ministry, he would be Imperiused or dead. 

He liked to remember things like that, so he could remember to be kind. 

‘You were the one who made those escape plans, I remember. I remembered that, that little seminar you held, I was there, where you showed us how to use the tunnels and the Portkeys and things to escape. And you said, if something happens, it’s not a drill. You could die. So I thought, when I heard of what they were doing, why not Percy Weasley? You kept us safe.’ Parkinson looked more grateful than he should, wringing his hands and thanking Percy. Then again, he could be dead. Percy had to be kind. 

You could hear the echoes through the grates of someone screaming, for a moment, he remembered that, he had been the one screaming in his boss’ office. He stopped screaming when someone died after six months of Death Eater occupation, he’d stood in silence. Obedience or defiance? It could have been easier, to think it was obedience, that they wanted him to stand in silence, in horror and in petrification of the screams that were from pain. 

It was harder to think it was defiance. It had been defiance, for him, maybe, because he had stood and he’d stayed out of pain so he could defy them in the dark. 

‘Yeah. I did those security measures for any potential invasions. Or attacks,’ Percy said quietly, standing up and fading to the background. 

‘Thank you, Percy,’ said Parkinson.

‘No trouble at all. Why don’t you send over the paperwork,’ he said, stepping back. 

‘Of course, Percy,’ said Parkinson, holding the door open. 

At his desk, surrounded by the comfort of what kept him safe, he pulled out the manuscript. He added a new scene to his scene list. There needed to be a happy scene, he decided. He like those ones the best. These days of melancholy were getting rarer and rarer, but when they did happen, he slunk off to his desk and took naps. 

The next day was much more exciting. The sun was out, trying to cheer him up, and it certainly worked. ‘Hello, Ava!’ he shouted across the Atrium, running past the drones of work and crashing into her with a hug. 

‘Percy! Oh, I haven’t seen you in ages. How’s your you-know-what coming along?’ she asked, leaning in. He smiled. 

‘I don’t mean to brag, but it’s going wonderfully. I have it at my desk if you want to come visit during lunch?’ he asked. 

She clapped her hands. ‘That would be lovely! You’re a wonderful writer, Percy, I cannot wait until you quit the Ministry to do it full time.’ He laughed. 

‘I can’t wait either. Oh! Did I tell you what I did yesterday?’ he asked, eyes widening. Too many chapters to count on his stupid romantic comedy of a book, but his friends loved it. He smiled indulgently at her. 

She giggled. ‘No, Percy, we haven’t seen each other since drinks last Friday. Now, I actually have to go to work. Let’s take a two hour lunch and go to that nice French place nearby, right? Schedule a reservation,’ she said, walking away breezily. Pure confidence on the outside. He smiled, shaking his head, before seeing Fudge again.

‘Shite!’ he murmured, trudging slowly with his hat down so he wasn’t spotted. Thankfully, he wasn’t found out this time. They got on different lifts just as the portly man saw him and struggled to get out of his lift. Percy smiled apologetically, sighing in relief when the former Minister couldn’t reach the door in time for it to close. 

One day, he knew that he couldn’t get out of whatever Fudge wanted to talk about, but he was not going to think about whatever shitshow that would become. 

‘Three?’ a witch in the lifts asked him, and turned to her. 

‘No, four. Thank you,’ he said, as the lift stopped at the floors. He got off, pulling his briefcase with him and squeezing out of the elevator. It seemed all the more plump witches and wizards that had quit were back, instead of the hollow eyed, thin ones from during the war. It made it a it harder to exit the lifts. 

At his desk, he decided to forego all work for the day and only work on his book. The thing was, now that he was getting an actual job, things to do, he wasn’t going to have much time for it. He wouldn’t get almost a chapter a week done anymore, unfortunately. 

He heard someone else speaking above him, interrupting his “work” and he yelped, pushing back his chair so he landed on the ground. ‘Ouch,’ he said, popping up to meet the eyes of his other best friends. ‘Penny!’ he said, pushing his hair out of his eyes and scowling at her. 

She smirked. ‘Sorry! But I heard from Ava that you were going to that French place for a long lunch. Oliver said he wanted to join you as well, so here we are!’ Percy cursed. 

‘Oh, I need to make the reservation, wait a moment,’ he said, scrambling for his mobile phone, brand new. 

‘Percy,’ Oliver said, shaking his head in disapproval. 

Percy held up a finger. ‘You don’t have an excuse! You haven’t turned in an assignment on time in your entire Hogwarts career!’ he laughed. Percy had usually made sure he turned them in, thank god for that, or Oliver would have been fired. 

‘This isn’t even a job! People just send you papers and you pass them along!’ Oliver responded. Percy looked on at his paperwork strewn desk in chagrin. It was true. But the principle of the thing, really , he couldn't just let Oliver get away with saying it. 

‘Oh, whatever,’ he said, giving Oliver a dirty look. The phone clicked. ‘Yes? -Oh, I’d like to make a reservation for four, please. -Lunch, that’s right. Two hours, I think? -Oh, perfect. I almost forgot to make this reservation, you know, but my friends reminded me. =Thank you,’ he said, tossing his phone back into a drawer. 

‘I’ll see you in an hour, Percy,’ said Penny, blowing him kisses as she turned around and left. 

‘Shoo, Clearwater! And don’t come back!’ he called after her. Oliver was still standing there, smiling fondly. Percy raised an eyebrow. 

‘What? Something funny, Wood?’ he asked tartly, turning back to his manuscript. 

‘No. You just seem a lot happier. I haven’t seen you in a month, remember?’ Oliver said. Percy remembered that. His tearful goodbye, when he couldn’t imagine anything without Oliver. During the war, once Oliver had been fired from his team, he and Percy had gotten a flat together so they could support each other. During the short Quidditch season post-war, Oliver hadn’t been there at all, and Percy unquestionably missed him. 

Percy rolled his eyes. ‘Oh, Ollie. Of course I’m happy. I missed you, though. The letters weren’t enough.’ Oliver smiled, small and sweet. 

Percy found himself distracted by the curve of his lips, that he knew exactly where to find this boy when he needed him. The gold in his hair and the dips of his collarbone. The tanned lines of his body. 

‘I think time away was good for us, though. We needed to not be so dependent.’ Percy nodded. Oliver shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. 

‘Of course, of course. Doesn’t mean I didn’t miss you, though,’ Percy said wistfully, thinking back to the times he’d find Oliver in his flat, baking up a storm or reading his way through Lockhart again. When Oliver was right there, to kiss and touch and be Percy’s. ‘Now, what are you still doing here! We had our reunion. Go away.’ 

‘Bye, Percy. I’d give you a kiss, but there are people around. See you at lunch!’ Oliver said, following Penny’s example and sending him kisses all the way out the door.


	2. Unfortunate Run Ins with Former Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percy's friends have some ideas about what's going on in his life and he starts his new project, alongside his father... and a couple of people he also used to know!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know nothing about french food and I think you can tell... BUT I was a good author and looked it up, the plat is the main course and the entree is the appetizer. 
> 
> Ugh I don't know how I feel about this chapter please please please send me a comment or kudos if you like this story at all!
> 
> I would also like to say that I honestly did not mean to make Percy this sappy towards Oliver, it just happened.

The clock chimed twelve, sending the cuckoo out of it’s nest. Percy got up right away, abandoning his desk so that he could get his hat and his outer robes. He hightailed it out of the Ministry, rushing as fast as he could to where he knew he could Apparate out into an alley. 

‘Percy! I knew you’d come in this alley, didn’t I tell you, Penny? I knew you’d come here,’ yelped Ava, dragging him by the wrist out of the alley. 

He smiled, only briefly gathering his scattered thoughts to be surprised they’d waited for him. ‘Thank you for waiting, I guess?’ he said. 

Penny rolled her eyes. ‘Clueless. We’re waiting for Oliver.’ He shot her a dirty look. 

‘Wow, thanks. I feel so loved,’ he said dryly. She shrugged in response. 

‘I’m here!’ Oliver said, popping into place. Percy beamed in response, throwing his arms around Oliver’s neck. Oliver leaned in for a kiss, feathering his pretty lips along Percy’s jaw before diving in, and kissing Percy silly. 

He emerged from the kiss, dazed, and pleasantly calm. Oliver wrapped their hands together, grinning as they left the alley. ‘You two are so cute,’ Ava murmured, putting her hand on Percy’s shoulder with a sweet smile. 

‘Thanks? Should I be thanking her?’ Oliver asked, his lips twitching. 

Percy considered, before swinging their hands. ‘Sure. Why not? Thanks Ava,’ he said. They arrived in front of the restaurant. 

Oliver held the door open for the three of them, always the gentleman. ‘Thanks!’ Penelope said, stocking her umbrella and smoothing her hands over the skirt she’d changed into. The restaurant was Muggle, very Muggle. Muggle enough that his dad would like it, and damn if that didn’t make Percy smile. 

‘What’s so funny?’ Ava asked, tossing her coat over the back of her chair and collapsing in a heap into the booth. She crossed her legs, looking ever so posh. 

Percy looked around the room, shooting her a grin. ‘Just think my dad would like this. Did you know I’m starting a project with him? It promises to be absolutely awful, but I need this job!’ he said cheerfully, opening the menu to look at the options. His plastic grin fell off his face when he looked up again, meeting Ava’s eyes squarely. ‘Really, I’m fucked.’ The booth that she and Oliver were sitting in practically shook with Oliver's laughter. 

Her eyes widened as she stifled her giggles. ‘Aww, don’t worry Percy, I’ll be there when you get home! To, like, make you food. And stuff,’ Oliver said with a pretty dimpled smile. Percy sighed as he stared at him, pressing his tongue against his cheek while he tried to angle their feet together. Oliver caught on, and they were playing footsie soon enough.

Penny sighed, leaning her head against Percy’s shoulder and slyly kicking her shoes off under the table. Apparently, heels were terribly uncomfortable. ‘How are you going to work on your book, then?’ she asked in dismay. Of his three friends, she was the most eager to get it published, claiming she had to get a share of the Galleons since she was technically an editor. (She wasn’t.)

Percy rolled his eyes towards Oliver, who gave his foot a little nudge in return. ‘I don’t know,’ he shrugged. 

Ava sipped at her drink, watching them avidly. ‘You guys are my most interesting friends. Now, Percy, where’s your book? Show it to us, and we’ll give you feedback,’ she said sagely, holding out her hand.

Percy looked around the restaurant suspiciously for any wayward Muggle eyes. He slipped his wand out, trying his best to be discreet and waved it under the table. Suddenly, the massive book was a heavy weight in his hand. He was thrown off balance and pitched forward, sending Penny into an anxious flutter. She grabbed him by the back of his shirt and he scowled. ‘No, I’m fine, Pen!’ he said, pushing her away.

He dusted off the cover. ‘Here you are, Ava. It’s not very good, but I’ve added a new chapter where they somehow get to a fountain and play in it.’ He frowned. ‘I don’t know how they got there, probably fell through a plot hole or something, but I like to think it’s quite good. I wrote half of it this morning in the three hours I wasn’t working or being bothered at by you three.’ 

He let out a quite put upon sigh. He was very suddenly acutely aware of Oliver’s feet curling into his, the way their ankles kept brushing, like kisses. Oliver’s bare skin against his, so much more intimate and secretive when it was under the table. He looked at Oliver’s inviting profile, eyes blown wide. The girls weren’t looking, Penny had somehow tracked down a duplicate of his book. 

‘What, Percy?’ Oliver breathed. ‘What is it?’ His blinding smile stretched across his face like a sly fox basking in the pretty sun, pleased as punch. Quite unexpectedly, Percy realized that he was the sun. Percy Weasley had never been anyone’s sun before. 

He let hand trail deliberately across the table until it was resting in front of Oliver. It was so dainty and weak next to Oliver’s calloused, tan hand that dwarfed his. Huge and domineering, the opposite of its owner. Oliver took Percy’s freckled hand, holding it fragile, and kissed it. ‘I like your freckles,’ he said innocently, with a signature dimpled smile. Just like that, the spell of hazy, lusty touches and long gazes was ended. His hand was coated with little freckles, big and small. No wonder, Oliver liked them, he always liked the things that made Percy just a little more feminine.

‘I named them,’ Percy said, smiling.

‘Hmm?’ 

‘I named them,’ Percy said, grinning at Oliver’s surprise. ‘See, this one is Camila, and these ones are all flower names, like, ah, Rose and Lily and Geranium, and this freckle constellation? Is that what it's called? Well, this freckle constellation is candlestick, because see, it looks like a candlestick,’ he said, pointing them out. Oliver blinked and brought his face closer. They must have looked quite a sight in the booth, two women reading identical leather bound books that had papers falling out, and Oliver squinting up close at Percy’s hand like he was.

‘I love it,’ Oliver announced. ‘That’s cute. And if you want, I could start naming your… other freckles,’ he said with a wiggled brow and a leer towards Percy’s long legs.

Percy laughed, taking back his hand. ‘Sure.’ The waitress approached their table. 

‘Sorry I took so long!’ she said, winded. ‘It’s a bit busy right now. What can I get for you all?’ she asked, pulling out her little pen and paper. 

‘I want a croque madame as my plat, the salad nicoise for my entree, and the mousse,’ Ava said with a sunny smile towards the server. 

‘For my entree, the terrine, please, and the beef stew for my plat. Uh, dessert… Maybe the creme brulee?’ Oliver tacked on. He was distracted, though, busy trying to steal the manuscript Ava was reading from right under her nose. Percy watched fondly, it was always Percy with the longing looks, until he startled, looking towards the server. 

She was smiling amusedly at him, and when he glanced around the table, he realized he was the last one to order. He’d totally missed Penny. ‘Lunch de jour, I guess. And what wine are we having?’ he asked the table at large. 

Ava blinked. She was the only one they trusted to order wine, because Oliver would inevitably end up getting liquor or beer, Percy only liked things with bubbles, and Penny was a hot mess when it came to just about anything to do with food, so Ava had to put on her thoughtful face and look at the menu. ‘Your Riesling, I guess. Just bring the bottle,’ she said, shutting the wine list with a thump.

‘Great!’ the waitress said, and sped off.

Now that she was gone, Ava was back to business. Oliver had thieved away her copy of Percy’s book, but she didn’t care. Ava leaned over the table with narrowed eyes and clasped hands. ‘So. You wrote another chapter. I like it. Needs an editor, maybe, soften it up. Take out the descriptions of your characters, we don’t need those. They’re stupid. And for Christ’s sake, add at least some setting?’ 

Percy laughed. ‘Yeah, sure. I told you it was really quickly done. Literally done today,’ he said with a shrug. 

‘I liked it. But you know me, I love your stories,’ Penny said, letting Percy take his book back and smiling nicely at him. She hummed thoughtfully. ‘You know, I could write a book. I bet I’d be better at it than you, even,’ she teased, pushing at his shoulder with the flat of her hand. 

He smiled indulgently. ‘Suuuure, Pen. You’d be great,’ he said. 

‘It would be better than this, at least,’ Ava sniffed. ‘I’m not an expert, but I was in Ravenclaw. I’ve done a fair bit of reading over the years. Your plot doesn’t hold up under scrutiny, but your characters are really good, Perce.’ 

Oliver unexpectedly chuckled, drawing their attention. The rich sounds practically rolled off his tongue, just like all his dirty whispers into Percy’s ear. He could make a mess of Percy right there, take him against the table and spread his big hands out over Percy’s ass. Percy wouldn't mind.

He startled when he felt another press of Oliver’s foot on his. He looked into Oliver’s eyes, like a pool of chocolate that Percy could just drink until he was full. He bit his tongue when he saw that Oliver was laughing at him. Every time he looked at him, Percy found another thing to get distracted by. Oliver was like a skeleton key, always fitting in somewhere and getting Percy hot with only a look. Oliver grinned brighter when Percy glared at him. ‘I like this part. Why is what’s her face, uh, Ella still here? I thought you were planning for her to move to Germany and get murdered?’ he asked, frowning at the book.

Percy groaned. ‘Oh! Shit, I forgot about that. It’s fine, she can move to Germany after this. Do you like the part with Georgie, though? She’s the important one in this chapter, even if it’s just self indulgent romance,’ Percy said.

Oliver brightened. ‘No, she’s really good. You nailed her. I liked when she found the cafe and made out with Ella against the wall. Very true to character,’ he said. Penny nodded sagely. 

Ava sighed. ‘When you kill her off, it’s going to break me, though. You suck, Percy,’ she said. Penny barked out a laugh.

‘It’s going to be awful, indeed,’ she said. ‘Now, your new project. With your dad. Spill, Percy,’ she demanded.

Oliver raised his eyebrows. ‘Yes, please, Percy. Your stories could have a chance of progressing into legend,’ he said.

Percy smiled softly. ‘I’m already a legend, Oliver. But Parkinson wants me to make, like, safety exits and stuff. And I have the most knowledge of the system. I really don’t want to be around him, though. It’s going to be awful. I shouldn’t be planning escapes for the Ministry, I should be figuring out how to escape for myself,’ he moaned. Oliver covered his mouth, trying to press back his smile.

‘You aren’t fooling anyone, Oliver. See, this is why he wouldn’t have survived in the Ministry. Can’t even hold back a smile,’ Penny teased. 

Oliver raised his chin defiantly. ‘I’d have done better than Percy. At least I wouldn’t have organized a grassroots rebellion!’ Ava cracked up, resting her forehead on one of Oliver’s broad shoulders.

The waitress cleared her throat. ‘Sorry to interrupt, but I have your wine and your appetizers,’ she said, handing out the food. Percy eyed his plate, a fluffy soufflé that looked decadent enough that he didn’t need the other courses. 

Penny smiled sweetly. ‘Yes, this looks beautiful,’ she complimented. 

‘Well, thanks,’ the waitress replied, giving them an awkward wave.

Ava sighed. ‘That was embarrassing. Hope she just thinks that we’re a bit odd, maybe Dungeons and Dragons or something. Not wizards that led a rebellion while a crazy decided to take over their society through targeted racism,’ she said dryly.

Percy shook his head. ‘God, Ava, you really don’t hold back. Accurate, though,’ he said, before starting in on his soufflé.

When they were finished with the appetizers, they resumed their conversation. ‘So, Percy, who else is on your project?’ Ava asked. Penny was still wolfing her salad down like she was an animal. 

He shrugged. ‘Hell if I know. Probably some misbehaving Aurors or something. Now, how have you been, Ava? Working in the dungeons,’ he clarified. 

She flipped her hair. ‘Not bad, really. I always thought being on the Wizengamot would be more serious. It’s fun, though, can you imagine? Like a special club. Percy, you should go get the Weasley seat. Your Aunt Muriel likes you best, didn’t she? Play up the pompous Percy bit and get her to give you all of her decisions in politics,’ she advised.

He laughed at the joke, but it felt painful and raw. She looked at him in concern. ‘Sorry. My brothers used to call me pompous Percy. I guess I was reminded of it. Of the person I used to be,’ he said, with a twist of a smile haunting his lips.

Oliver had finished his terrine, and he’d begun to tease Percy yet again, rucking up the ankle of his pants and letting a shot of golden warmth spread up into Percy’s body. It took away the painful nostalgia of how he’d changed. He grinned in thanks.

Ava tucked her hair behind her ears. ‘Sorry,' she said, leaving the table in a still silence until she decided to break it with a cheery laugh. 'Well, Percy, now that you have a real job and you have to do real work, it’s going to be hard for you to write. Especially if people are paying attention to you. What do you think you’re going to do?’ she asked. 

Percy sighed. ‘Honestly, I have no idea. I guess I’ll just have to sneak off all the time. Good news, though, my father is still going to think I’m hardworking. His experience is with pre-war Percy,’ he said, earning a chuckle from Oliver.

Penny cleared her throat, finally done with her entree. ‘I know a few spots you can sneak away to.’ she said with a crafty smile on her face. ‘Or you could just claim that you’ve had a bad meal, and then you can spend the whole day in the bathroom,’ she offered. 

Percy cocked his head. ‘That’s terrible advice, Penny. My plan was to just pretend I’m doing paperwork and write as often as I want,’ he said. 

Ava giggled. ‘That’s great, Perce.’ The rest of their meal was delicious, but more important was the increasingly ridiculous ideas they were plotting so that Percy could put up his feet and write.

‘Scarlett,’ he said, kneeling down to face her. ‘Beau.’ Beau darted in, licking at his face, and Percy scrunched his nose up and turned his head away. ‘No! My face is not for licking!’ he said in dismay. Scarlett was obviously not paying attention, because she licked at his cheek a moment later. 

Percy sighed in exasperation. ‘I had a speech planned out. But now, I’ve run out of time, and all I get to say is that I love you. Be good, you stupid dogs!’ he shouted. Scarlett waited patiently at the door, wagging her tail until he was gone, but Beau had already nosed off to do probably banned things, like breaking into the pantry, or jumping on Percy’s bed. Percy sighed. At least Scarlett pretended to be good.

He arrived at work, and, just as the day before, and the day before that, and the day even before that, he was faced with a flat-faced, flabby Fudge looking around shiftily. He zeroed in on Percy, and there was definitely a pattern there, the pattern was that the nosy bastard was after Percy. 

‘Weasley!’ he barked. Percy didn’t do a thing, just sped over to the lift and tapped his foot anxiously. He lowered the brim of his hat, and got on the lift with no trouble at all from the man who lived to haunt his nightmares and his mornings at work. Just like the day before. 

The only difference today would be that he would be in a new office, with a new team, working on a new project. A team that included his father. He hadn’t seen him since the Ministry was taken over, Percy certainly didn’t go to the famed battle of Hogwarts. He didn’t know how to duel, he would’ve died right away. Unfortunately, that meant he was still the enemy. 

‘Percy!’ called Martin Nimrod, (Percy didn’t know his last name, just that he was an idiot, so he'd decided Nimrod was an appropriate surname.) 

‘Good morning, Martin!’ he replied with a cheery wave. It was always awkward running into him, because he based a character in his book off of the man, and it wasn’t a flattering look. He was the villain’s incompetent sidekick. 

‘Working on this floor now, eh? Moving up from all those damned treaties and foreign diplomats to the Minister’s office, nice!’ he said. Percy smiled at him.

‘Yeah, Martin, I’m assigned to a new project,’ he said gently.

‘Good luck!’ he called down the hall, and it brought a smile to Percy’s face. Total nimrod, but quite nice. 

When he reached the office he’d been assigned, Percy was not expecting the pandemonium, the utter chaos inside to be so apparent. As soon as he opened the door, there was a flurry of movement, charmed paperweights that looked like birds flying right past his ear. He spun around, looking inside the office to see any other potential dangers. 

Ron was sitting at his desk, frantically shoving papers into his top desk drawer and Harry Potter, oh god, Harry Potter was there too, idly drawing on the desk with a fancy pen. His father turned around, a strained smile appearing on his face. ‘Percy,’ he said shortly, ‘Nice to see you again.’ Without sparing a look for his youngest son, he snapped, ‘Ron get your hands out of your desk.’ It made Percy flinch just a little. 

‘Ah. Well, it’s… nice to see you too,’ he said, walking towards the biggest desk at the head of the room. 

Arthur coughed. ‘I guess you already know Ron and Harry, then,’ he said, and Percy gave him a disbelieving look. 

He did realize that Ron was his brother? Arthur really was too awkward. It stung in his gut, though, feeling so disconnected from the family. Like he was a stranger, or merely a work acquaintance. Percy had been expecting something that was more like a fight, or at least a reunion of some sort, no matter the stiffness or the clumsy hugs that would follow. Not the unraveling of all their history, all of Percy’s history, with a single offhand phrase. 

‘I do,’ Percy said quietly. He dropped his shit onto his desk and sat down, rubbing at his stiff knees. They’d never been the same after the war, all the groveling and kneeling and prostrating on the floor to save himself from a split second of torture. 

Arthur sighed. ‘So the only exit plans for the Ministry so far are these two,’ he said, unfurling a large map. Percy watched attentively, didn’t miss the tiny glances towards Percy that the three of them kept making. 

Percy stood up. It was his cue. ‘Actually not. There are dozens more that went under the radar during You Know Who’s… reign.’ It was said devoid of any inflection. He’d had a whole speech prepared, his big plans to save the Ministry, ready to thrust in his face. 

He didn’t much care now. Harry Potter had saved the world, not just a handful of employees, and Ron had helped him with it. His heart ached when he thought about it. He wished he could have been there. He’d felt a certain kinship with Ron from the first day that he found a spider instead of his teddy bear, like they were both the odd ones out. In second year, though, Percy had failed Ginny, and Ron had saved her. And stupid, jealous, proud Percy did not like that one bit. So he wasn’t part of the family anymore, big deal. He had his new family, he had Oliver and the dogs and Ava and Penny, he had his book. 

Percy took a measured breath. ‘I created them, I suppose.’ He dug his own map out of his briefcase and spread it out over Arthur’s, muttering a spell so the two joined together. ‘There. These ones are for the people working on the lower levels, the window ones are for fires, like we had a Fiendfyre incident? I think it was Bellatrix Lestrange, but before the Fiendfyre fighters got here, we were in a panic. So I figured I’d draw up some plans, and it just… snowballed from there,’ he said flatly, biting his lip hard enough that it burned.

Nothing was burning brighter than the hurt kindling in his chest, hotter than Fiendfyre and more powerful, he’d learned, as well. ‘This is really interesting,’ Arthur said neutrally. 

‘Yeah, mate, this is great! All those maps you drew when we…’ Ron trailed off with a sharp look from Arthur. Harry sidled closer to Ron with a quick glance between the two opposite sides. 

So it was planned, then, that they were treating Percy like a leper. Oh, pretentious Percy doesn’t have feelings, does he? At least Ron seemed to be neutral in the argument brewing, Percy thought gratefully. 

‘Well, then,’ he snapped. ‘I guess I’ll just do some paperwork,’ he said, going back to his desk and starting on the editing he was doing of the last chapter. He wanted all his stupid characters to be nice to each other to fill the well of hurt in Percy’s stomach.

When Arthur left the room, telling them he’d need to drop off some papers at the Welcome Witch’s desk, Harry and Ron made a beeline for Percy. ‘Hey, mate, sorry for what Dad’s been doing. He’s a bit bitter, to be honest. Fred almost died during the battle, he lost both legs, but Dad keeps thinking that if there was someone else there, Fred would’ve been fine. It’s hogwash. Don’s listen,’ Ron said, surprisingly sweet for his younger brother. 

Percy grinned, all the pain of being not-a-Weasley falling away. ‘Yeah? That explains it then,’ he said with a nod. 

Harry was behind Ron, kept glancing at the door, looking shy, much more shy than he ever did at Hogwarts, except for the times he was being famous, being recognized. ‘I don’t know if I forgive you, or something, whatever, but you’ll always be my big brother. I love you, Perfect Percy,’ Ron said, using the kindest of the nicknames he’d been given. 

It did make it a bit awkward, though, thinking that they didn’t know anything whatsoever about him anymore. He grinned at the thought, that all the secrets and mystery he’d craved when he was still acting the pragmatic sixteen year old had reached him now. 

And it’d work out in his favor when he got to pretend he was being hardworking and doing paperwork instead of, well, writing his book. ‘Love you too, Ron,’ he said cheerfully. He added an annotation to Georgie’s awful dialogue right as his father came in. They got to work, and Percy got to writing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well there you have it! A healthy dose of angst mixed with a cocktail of comedy and romance! And we've met all our main characters finally! Hooray!


	3. Fortunately, Problems are Solved Short Term

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percy can't find a permanent solution to his problem. That is, he can't find a way to keep his hobby away from his dad and still do it during work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I missed the update last week for any of you who read this story! This isn't really a fancy chapter. Mostly it's little ideas I had in my head since the beginning. In a movie, this would be like the montage I think  
Don't worry, the plot is coming in soon!
> 
> As for Percy's book, it's totally a soap opera for sure for sure

Percy really took advantage of his reputation. Probably too much. The bell would strike nine and the cuckoo would come out, and he would get restless. It was Pavlovian, the way he reached for a quill and got a shot of inspiration every time he heard nine tolls of the bell. 

Percy needed to write. He snuck a peek at his father, diligently working away, humming a tune. Harry and Ron were a little less focused, but Ron was still writing, and Harry seemed to be doing… something. 

He glanced around the room, tapping at his leg. It wouldn’t hurt, really, to just do it today. Tomorrow he could work double as hard, he decided. The manuscript was out on his desk, and he was writing furiously before he knew it. He couldn’t even last a minute after nine without jotting something down, a quick scene. 

At the moment, he was engaged in the most important part. The book, he’d been told, was a soap opera written down, it was so dramatic. Percy didn’t care, it was too much fun to not give the situations a little spice.

Ron wandered over, peering over Percy’s shoulder at the paper. Percy’s eyes widened, the realization that Ron had come over a split second too late, and turned around. ‘Hello, Ron. What are you supposed to be working on right now? Because I can’t seem to see you doing it,’ he said politely. Ron smiled guiltily. 

‘Sorry, Percy. I should go, shouldn’t I? What are you doing?’ he asked, but Percy crossed his arms and channeled his inner Head Boy. 

‘Paperwork. I’m sorry, what are you looking for right now? A way to distract me? I’m sorry, it isn’t that easy’ he asked crisply, frowning down his nose. It really was that easy, though, unfortunately. He hadn’t done more than three hours of work in two days. He pushed up his glasses, staring at Ron until the other redhead shifted back, an annoyed look on his face. 

‘Sorry, Percy. Never mind. Guess we can’t all be working all the time, you know? Let loose a little. You’re always doing paperwork,’ he advised, walking away to avoid Percy’s best glare. Percy winced once he was sure Ron couldn’t see him. He sometimes went a little overboard when he was lying. 

Percy clapped a hand over his mouth, ducking under the table to pretend to grab a dropped quill. He couldn’t stop the stifled giggles no matter how hard he tried. He really was awful at lying. Truly terrible. He needed a new strategy if he was going to keep up his writing schedule. Some things mattered, and some didn’t. He’d slack off work so that he could write, but he wouldn’t slack off writing so he could work. 

He swallowed his laughter and smiles at getting one over on them, but when he stood up again, he could feel more giggles bubbling in his stomach. He ducked under the table again to gather himself together. God, Percy thought, he really needed to find a new way to write during the workday. 

‘Are you alright, Percy?’ Arthur asked. Percy jolted up, almost hitting his head. 

‘Yes, I’m fine! Just dropped my quill!’ he said, popping back up and sitting down again. Percy sighed. This was already a disaster, and it had been just two days.

The next day, he put on his most ironed pants, his stuffiest work robe. The dogs, beautiful though they were, would get their hair all over his robes if he said hi, so after their morning walk, he’d locked them in the kitchen. He peered through the keyhole, seeing them so sad, so dejected. 

‘Sorry, Beau, Scarlett! I have to leave you in there,’ he said. He was answered with a pathetic whine. His hand reached for the door before he could rethink it. There was no way he’d deny his poor dogs a happy morning. Dog hair it was, then. 

Once he walked into the office the four of them were using, he glared at Ron. ‘Ron, can you stop making that racket?’ he ordered. Ron’s tapping foot and quiet snapping fingers ceased, for a moment. 

Hopefully it would start again soon. See, Percy’s plan was this: act more annoyed than usual at their little automatic movements and tics, until he could storm away, or rather, flounce away. He didn’t do storming well. If he acted angry enough, he might be able to get away with a week of “working” somewhere else. Where they couldn’t ask him about what he was doing and figure out that it was a whole load of lies. 

Percy scowled at Harry’s bright smile. ‘So, Ron, Ginny said she wanted to go to a church or a cathedral, but have the reception at the Burrow. Neville’s a little lost with the whole wedding thing, but he’ll get there, I think. Do you think she’ll invite Seamus and Dean?’ he asked, too loud and lonely to Percy. 

His baby sister. Getting married. He’d seen her a couple times since she graduated, but he had no idea she was even dating Neville. He especially had no idea they were serious. He stood up, saying too stiffly, ‘Excuse me. I have to use the restroom.’ 

He walked past them, out into the hallway where he could hang his head in his hands. He’d always thought, for some reason, he’d be there. He missed Bill’s wedding, now he was missing Ginny’s. It was milestones he never thought they wouldn’t reach together. He held his breath, waiting for the influx of tears in his eyes to pass. They didn’t, they just got more and more, spilling over his eyelashes onto his cheeks until they were wet and dreary. 

Percy swallowed and leaned his head against the bench. He missed Ginny the most out of everyone. They were closest when he left, and he thought they’d grow old and wrinkled together. Going on seaside vacations together when their husbands were dead, all alone. They had the same favorite ice cream flavor, they were the only two Weasleys who didn’t like the color red best, and she always came to ask him about Hogwarts until she went there. He knew, of course, that she was graduated, that it was a long time ago, but the tears washed away his rationality. He wasn’t going to be at his baby sister’s wedding. 

Percy sighed, deep breaths in and out. He would be fine. Postpone his plan for tomorrow, so that he could stitch back together the ragged edges of his emotions. 

‘Percy? Are you home?’ Oliver asked. Percy heard him drop his Quidditch things to the floor with a loud clatter. 

‘In the bedroom, dear!’ Percy called. Oliver’s footsteps got louder as he came up the stairs and walked in. 

‘Hello,’ he said, leaning down to give Percy a kiss. Percy smiled, a warm flush from the tip of his nose tingling down his neck. ‘I missed you last week. I hate away games,’ he sighed, grumbling a little as he pushed his nose into Percy’s neck. 

Percy smiled, raising his eyebrows. ‘Missed you too, Oliver.’ He hesitated. ‘Ginny is on your team,’ he said. ‘Is she really… getting married?’ he whispered. 

Oliver went still. ‘Yeah. I’m sorry, Percy, I was hoping you wouldn’t find out. But hey, if she invites you, we can go, can’t we?’ he said desperately. 

Carefully, Percy edged away from Oliver. ‘I want to fling myself off a ledge. What do I do? I hate them, but, oh, Oliver, do I miss them,’ he said. 

Oliver took his hand, pulling him out of bed and downstairs. ‘I’ll make tea. When are you going to apologize?’ he asked. 

Percy shook his head. ‘I’m not apologizing,’ he said. Oliver raised his eyebrows. Percy scowled at him. ‘I didn’t do anything wrong, Oliver! They were toxic. A toxic family. Just because I loved them didn’t mean it was healthy. It was so stifling. You know how the Burrow is so cramped? That was like my life. I had the slivers that were Percy, and then I had so many other parts that were just Arthur Weasley or Molly Weasley’s son, the Weasley twins’ brother, Bill Weasley’s weird brother. I was alone in a house of eight! And I had opinions, opinions that were different that I didn’t want to compromise,’ he said, a stubborn set to his mouth. 

‘Sure, Perce. Makes sense. But that was then. This is now. We don’t just have to define ourselves by transformative experiences. You can change yourself anytime you want. She;s your baby sister! Attend her wedding, for Christ’s sake. Make up with just her, even. You don’t have to talk to Bill or to your mum or anything.’ 

‘You sound like a self-help book,’ Percy replied sourly. ‘It’s bad enough I have to spend time with my dad and Ron! She probably isn’t going to forgive me, you know,’ he said despondently. 

Oliver sighed, resting his chin in his hands. ‘I don’t know, Perce. You love her. Give it a shot. Imagine, you can think back and you can remember your younger sister’s wedding.’ 

Percy shook his head and took a sip of tea. It was too much for one day. 

Arthur nibbled at the end of his quill. Percy watched slyly, making sure to throw his hands up dramatically so everyone would notice. ‘I need a better work environment,’ he announced primly, stacking a few pages of half-done paperwork. ‘I’m leaving this office! I want to find a new one.’ 

‘Percy, that’s ridiculous,’ Arthur said. Percy narrowed his eyes. So he was being the irrational one, was he? 

‘I don’t care if it’s ridiculous. Do you know how hard it is to work with all of you breathing down my neck, tapping out little tunes, chewing your quills?’ he mocked. ‘I’m going to find somewhere that’s better for me,’ he announced, taking care not to spill his ink pot as he gathered his things. 

‘Better for you, is it?’ Ron muttered under his breath. ‘Always about Percy,’ he groused. Percy pretended he didn’t hear it, and that it didn’t hurt. He thought he and Ron were halfway to being close again. Not friends, certainly not brothers, but something more than strangers. 

‘Percy. Percy!’ Arthur blocked the door. ‘This project is supposed to be for a group. It’s unfair to let our habits get in the way. Can you stay? We need you. You’re the only one of us who can really know about any other existing systems. You have all the knowledge of the old Ministry, don’t you? You memorized it, practically,’ he said. 

That was what did it for Percy. His father just assuming that Percy memorized everything about the Ministry, because he was such a suck up, such a goddamned moron who followed the crowd and mooned over Cornelius Fudge. He was not a pathetic person who memorized the Ministry. ‘I’m sorry, Arthur, can you move out of the way? I have to get by,’ he insisted. When Arthur didn’t move, he shot a spell at him.

Percy left the room, carrying his parchment and quills with him, breathing a sigh of relief once he was gone. He poked his head into the office he used to have, and found it unoccupied. He set his things down, pushing the paperwork off of his manuscript and sighing in relief. 

Finally, he could relax. Sit back and let the ideas come. Soon, he would have to return to the other office, but he’d find other strategies for writing then. Percy was very smart. He was never, ever going back to working full time for the Ministry if he could help it.

Percy was able to hole up in his new office for less than a week. Eventually, Harry and Ron teamed up to drag him back to the project headquarters. And Percy needed to find a new way to shamelessly manipulate everyone around him for his own comfort. 

He lifted his nose. ‘Ron! Where is the paperwork for Portkey authorizations?’ he asked. There was no paperwork for Portkey authorizations. 

Ron whirled around, guilty. ‘Uh… I don’t know.’ He winced. ‘Sorry, Percy! Harry?’ he asked, turning to Harry.

‘Harry? Did you do it?’ Percy asked. Harry slowly shook his head. Percy pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘Really, you two! Do you know how important that is? It took me almost a day to finish it, all you needed to do was sign it! It’s a fail-safe. It could prove crucial to Ministry employees that have no other way out. I guess I go have to see Clearwater about it,’ he sighed. 

‘Your ex-girlfriend? The poor bird! That must be so awkward,’ Ron laughed. Percy glared at him. 

‘My ex-girlfriend and I are on very good terms with each other, I’d like you to know! I am an adult,’ he said stiffly, grabbing his book and hightailing it out of the office. He rushed down the hallways and flung Penny’s door open. 

‘Penny! I got out of the office. Do you have any quills I can use?’ he asked, flinging himself on the couch and summoning a few necessary writing implements, along with tissues. He was writing a death scene today, he’d better come prepared. 

Penny noticed. ‘Oh, Percy! You’re writing your death scene!’ she cried, all in a flurry of amotion, coming to rest in a heap on top of him, more comforting than dramatic. He hugged her back.

‘I’m sorry, Penny, but it must be done,’ he said sympathetically. ‘I’ll write it today and come here tomorrow, too. If anyone asks, we’re supposed to be doing paperwork for Portkey authorisation. I’m hiding, actually,’ he went on to say. 

‘Good for you, Percy! I’ll see if we can get Ava to bring us lunch. How’s Oliver?’ she asked, writing down a note to Ava on the paper she was holding. 

‘He’s good. But he hasn’t been home very often. I wake up, and it’s practically the only time I see him!’ He peered over her shoulder. ‘Can you ask for mushroom pizza? Please?’ 

Penny sighed. ‘Fine, mushroom pizza. You should plan something with him. Have a dinner party, or something. He can’t say no to a dinner party,’ she said. 

‘Sure. Hey, I have to get to work. Thanks for letting me ditch work here, Penny,’ he said, kissing her on the cheek. 

‘Of course you can ditch work here. I love enabling your bad habits. It’s fun pulling one over on them,’ she said. 

He nodded crisply. ‘Good. I’ll write, now.’ 

The next day, Percy was sobbing on the couch. Penny placed a comforting hand on his back. ‘Just cry it out, love. Don’t feel sad, it’s only a fictional character,’ she advised. 

He looked towards her, stricken. ‘But Penny, I created her! My characters are my children, practically!’ He dissolved into more noisy tears. 

There was a knock at the door. They shared a panicked look, but Percy dove for his manuscript and crawled under the desk. No one could see him like this. ‘Come in!’ Penny called. 

‘Ah, thank you!’ It was his father’s voice. ‘Have you seen Percy? I thought he’d be here,’ Arthur said, worried. 

‘He’s with someone else right now. I think, maybe the Minister? You can’t really be sure. He’s a busy bee, lots of connections,’ she said nervously. 

Percy held his breath. ‘I’m sure. He was always like that, in school too. He got a lot of NEWTS. I was very proud of him,’ Arthur said fondly. Percy’s jaw dropped, and he startled, banging his head upwards on the bottom of the desk. 

It was loud. Ron poked his head in. ‘Dad? What was that? Where’s Percy?’ he asked. 

‘What was that, Clearwater?’ Arthur asked suspiciously. 

She was jiggling her leg under the table. It was a nice leg. Smooth. Percy thought maybe she waxed her legs. ‘I have a Monster Book of Monsters in my desk,’ she said smoothly. That was a good lie. Percy was impressed.

‘Oh. Do you… like monsters a lot?’ Ron asked politely. 

Penny pretended to stick her hand in the drawer and pet at the book. She widened her eyes at Percy, huddling under the desk. He quickly made some snuffling, purring noises. ‘Yes!” she said brightly. ‘I love monsters!’

Ron cleared his throat. ‘What kind?’ he asked. Courteous, Percy noted proudly. 

‘All monsters!” Penny said, sweeping her hand and smiling. Percy pressed a hand over his mouth to muffle his laughter. 

There was a pause. ‘Interesting. I think we have to go track down Percy, dad. Thank you, Clearwater,’ Ron said. 

Percy tumbled out from the desk, laughing himself hoarse. Penny was bright red. ‘Oh god! I’m so sorry, Penny!’ he said. 

She grinned. “It’s fine. Just… don’t be mean to them. They’re awful, but so are yo,’ she said, pushing her foot towards his chest. He smiled softly. 

‘I’ll remember that, thanks, Pen.’ 

He was back in his office, for good, by the end of the day. Percy found he didn’t really mind. After all, they were under the impression he was hardworking. It wasn’t too much of a hardship to occasionally trick them further. And working… Percy worked hard during the war It was too daunting to consider it now, when things were supposed to be safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay there were some issues with the chapters. Hopefully it's fixed now? Help technology


	4. The Minister Strikes Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our boys are invited to an event with an interesting guest, and tensions tense up around the Ministry. IS THAT DRARRY I SEE?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> imma just leave this here. it's been a while hasn't it? I'm sorry, very very sorry...   
this chapter is sort of a mess and it was really hard to get it out from my head.

Oliver dragged his hands through Percy’s hair, pulling at the tangles and inciting sharp bursts of ache in his head. He didn’t much care. ‘There’s a party,’ Oliver said carefully, feeling out the words. ‘For the team. Do you want to come with me?’

Percy shrugged, pillowing his hands under his chin. ‘Where is it? More importantly, how exhausting is it going to be?’ His eyes were full of deep bags.

Oliver quirked his mouth. ‘I bet you’ll have fun, Percy, but Ginny is, Ginny’s going to be there.’ Percy eyes snapped open.

‘Seriously? You know, you know… I’m so tired. I just want to write, but I have to juggle. Again. I have to juggle work, and writing, and you, and my family. This is supposed to be my time to relax!’ He tossed his hands up in the air.

Oliver rolled his eyes. It only served to anger Percy further. ‘Whatever, Percy. She loves you, you know. She wants to see you! She asks about you. She would invite you to the wedding.’

Percy gasped. That spot was sore and bruised, still. He didn’t want to miss another wedding. Not after Bill’s. They were important. ‘Don’t use that against me,’ he said, glaring. 

Oliver flinched. He was big and strong, but he couldn’t stand up for himself during any arguments they had. It frustrated Percy when he didn’t take a secret pleasure in always winning where he hadn’t before. ‘I don’t want to!’ he cried. Percy looked away, steely. ‘I want you to reconnect with your family! Do Fred and George seem like the type to hold vendettas? They aren’t you, Perce!’ 

Percy snarled. ‘I don’t care a bit about that! And they hold grudges longer than you think,’ he spat, thinking of every time he felt belittled. Actively belittled, at least, not just the butt of a million jokes and a scapegoat for trouble. 

‘This isn’t about them. Please, Percy, she wants to be part of your family again. She would forgive you so easily,’ Oliver placated. Percy closed his eyes.

‘Fine. I can go,’ he sighed. ‘You owe me, though. Foot rubs.’ 

Oliver sighed in relief. ‘All the foot rubs, Percy, I promise.’

Scarlett jumped on the bed, circling and resting her head on their feet. Oliver reached out to pet her. ‘I’ll be there. Name a time and place,’ Percy sighed, resting his hands on his lap and retrieving the book he had been reading.

‘I’ll find out,’ Oliver said, beaming. ‘It’s going to be at, uh, Westbabe’s? Soon. Next weekend, maybe.’ He dragged Beau up on the bed, too. They lavished attention on their respctive dogs. Percy could feel, almost, the focus and attention from Oliver, like a magnifying glass centred on his body, but he didn’t tear his eyes away from his book. He was badly off kilter from that request. 

Percy’s arrival to the Atrium of the Ministry was thankfully, exempt of Cornelius Fudge circling like a shark. Unfortunately, his arrival to his office was not so lucky. This time, he couldn’t avoid the man. He couldn’t even sneak out before his family arrived.

‘Percy, Percy, Percy. I’ve been wanting to see you for so long,’ Fudge said, smiling. It wasn’t the smarmy one he sported with a gala, not nervous, like around Bellatrix Lestrange. 

Fudge wanted something, though. There was a reason Percy had been avoiding him. ‘Listen, mate, you could clear out of our office,’ Ron advised, elbowing Harry. He nodded along.

‘No, no. Percy, I need to speak with you. I can guess that things have changed since the war, but-‘

That was where Percy cut him off. He cocked his head. ‘I don’t think you’re speaking to the right person, sir. With all due respect,’ he said icily.

Fudge was undeterred. ‘No, Percy, I wanted to know if you could put in a good word for me. With maybe, the higher ups? During the war, I remember… You’re very in charge, aren’t you?’ he asked expectantly.

Percy so bodily flinched at the mention of that dark time he almost fell from his chair. And his father, the nosy bastard, leaned forward hopefully. He wanted to know, always, about the Ministry during the war or Percy’s role, what Percy was writing. 

‘I think, sir, it would be best if you left. I don’t indulge incompetence, especially not your selfish brand of it. Get out.’

Fudge started forward, his chin wobbling. ‘No! I need this job!’

Percy sneered, popping open the door. ‘Out. I have no authority anymore. Do you think I want to be working with my family?’

Fudge looked between them. He was trapped in a moment of indecision. ‘Percy…’

‘I suggest you leave. It would be best if I had some peace.’ Fudge left. 

‘Wow. You really shut him down, huh?’ Ron admired. ‘I always hated him, Percy, that was really cool of you!’ Harry trailed behind him, smiling proudly. 

With those two, one was always was following behind the other. Percy dropped his head. The desk was cool and easy to ignore. He wanted to space out. He wanted to empty himself of feelings. Not listen to them. He wanted to write, write until his hand cramped. Sentences cycled a through his head. And if he could t read, he could write, make a habit of scanning pages and remembering them verbatim.

‘Get out,’ he sighed. His cheek moved with the words, leaving an imprint on the desk.

‘Boys,’ his father said quietly, opening the door. Percy wanted to laugh. For once, he was acting as the mediator. For once, Percy’s father was acting in his interests, and it barely made a dent in the brokenness of their relationship. 

‘Goodbye,’ he said. 

The next day, no one mentioned the four hours Harry and Ron had spent wandering the halls. Security meant nothing. And not just because of the raging trauma carving paths of panic through his brain the moment he saw people walking too fast and too quiet in the halls. 

‘Good morning,’ Percy said, not looking up from his sentence. ‘Your work is on your desks.’ 

‘Uh, thanks mate,’ Ron said, freezing before he reached Percy’s desk. Did he mean to offer a clap on the shoulder or something? Some pitiful physical comfort?

‘Percy, would you look up?’ his father asked in frustration. Percy looked him square in the eye. 

‘I’m working,’ he snapped. 

Arthur’s eyes grew bigger with sadness. Percy had neither the time nor the emotional wherewithal for this. He wanted to go home. He wanted to be near Oliver, but Oliver was gone for a match and that was practically unbearable. ‘Please, Percy. I know that you’re unhappy with this arrangement, but civility can be easily managed. Especially by someone as supposedly intelligent as you.’ 

Percy felt like a bloody teenager. He was irrational. Lashing out was not the right answer, yet it would feel so good. He opened his mouth. ‘I’m sure you’ve heard that-’ 

The door springing open interrupted him. Pansy Parkinson, in all her gorgeous glory, swept in with Draco Malfoy behind her. The freckles on Percy’s face must have turned inside out in his surprise. 

Malfoy was looking gaunt as a model, with his aristocrat cheekbones and handsome white hair. Pansy was a good deal more full, both in the chest and the rosy cheeks she was sporting, a match for her bright dress. ‘The Weasleys! Oh, this is wonderful, there are so many of you!’ she said, clapping her hands together. 

He was reminded of the girl she used to be. Or maybe that ghost during the war was the anomaly. Regardless, her flushed and grinning face was a comedy of parallels when he thought of the other girl he’d met. The serious one, who had shifty eyes and a lightning fast wand hand to match. ‘Pansy!’ he said, smiling. ‘Come here.’ 

They kissed cheeks as a greeting, intentionally ignoring the elephant like sputtering of Ron. Percy turned to him, a scowl on his face. ‘Wow, Percy, you two sure are familiar. Is that Malfoy with you? How are you?’ he asked. Apparently, Ron had taken their father’s lecture on civility to heart. 

‘I’m quite good. Thank you,’ Malfoy replied, a grimace on his face. He was ugly when he was angry. 

‘You, well, you know, it’s, um, it’s been a while,’ Harry stuttered out. He looked like a beet. Malfoy was not much better. Did they know each other? Did all that planning for Pansy and Draco’s trials bring them together? 

He exchanged a look with her. Draco was blathering on about something, hippogriffs and the best time of day to visit thestrals. A few years ago, he’d have been disapproving and embarrassed of such a morbid thought. Now he thought it was sweet. Oliver had softened him for young love. ‘Pansy, why don’t you follow me?’ 

She nodded, taking his arm. Neither of them missed the apoplectic and twisted look adorning Arthur’s face. Neither of them cared much, either. ‘How are you? I knew you were working with them, but not that it was so, ah, hostile. How’s Oliver? Your book?’ He smiled at the mention. 

‘Are you angling for an invitation to join book club?’ he asked, leading her to the break room he frequented on his escapes from work duties. He waved his wand, muttering a spell for tea. ‘Well. It hasn’t been kind to me, working with them. God, they’re a bunch of self righteous, hard headed bastards.’ He shot a dark look at the office. 

Pansy raised her eyebrows. ‘Dish, then, I want to hear all about it.’ 

He shrugged off handedly. ‘They aren’t the type to think things through. Mostly,’ and he exhaled heavily then, ‘Mostly it’s that we’re at odds. I can’t imagine they’d accept the open secret that is my raging gayness, and Oliver keeps trying to help. With the twins, especially.’ 

‘But they hate you!’ she cried. ‘He’s useless.’ Percy shook his head. 

‘I love him, don’t I? He can’t be utterly useless.’ He could see when the innuendo hit her, because she almost spat her tea. ‘Not at some things, at least.’ He gave her a cheeky smile when he saw her glee in his audacity. 

‘This book club? How do I join?’ Pansy asked. He frowned before he remembered the throwaway comment. 

‘Every so often, Ava, Penny, Ollie, and I will meet and I’ll show them the book as it is. It’s pretty fun, to be honest. You’re welcome to join, I’ll send you a note.’ Percy shrugged. 

‘Do you think they’re done flirting yet?’ she asked, finishing her tea and cleaning it by spell. ‘I can’t imagine he has many more pick up lines than I’m rich, wanna bang? and what’s a wizard like you doing in a bar like this?’ 

‘I, uh, well, I mean, I, like, I can’t imagine that, hmm, ah, Potter, can, well, if he can spit, spit something, that’s, you know, if he can speak in a, a sentence that’s, well, not stuttering?’ Pansy grinned. 

‘Anyone ever told you you’re a bit mean?’ she asked, gathering her bag. The conversation had taken out ten minutes of his work time. 

‘Yes. Go get your friend, Parkinson, I have to pretend to be working,’ he said, making his way around the maze of desks to re enter their cramped office. 

‘Draco, time to go,’ she said, uncannily similar to his mother when she was coaxing the twins away from a rambunctious playmate that refused to let them leave. ‘It was nice seeing you,’ she said, patting his shoulder.

Abruptly, the mood changed back to frost. They walked in the office, and it was so extremely obvious they’d been speaking about Draco. He wasn’t dumb. This was practically offensive, what they expected of him. Ron’s guilty looks and Harry’s awkward cough. Most damning was his father’s refusal to meet his eyes, when minutes ago, he’d been riled up and eager to fight. 

‘Nice to be back,’ he said crisply. The quill and the closed manuscript sat on his desk, thankfully untouched. Pansy looked searchingly around the room before she left. Percy couldn’t be brought to care about her impression of his work. He swallowed, looking for a nanosecond at the picture of their family on Arthur’s desk. He wasn’t in the picture, of course he wasn’t, but it always served as a reminder. 

‘Glad to have you,’ Ron replied belatedly. He rolled his eyes. If they thought he would work now, after what they did. Well. He needed to finish the chapter about the creepy old women who tried to murder his characters with needles from their old first aid kits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> was it good? are you excited? comment and kudos pretty please and thank you. is anyone else curious about the book Percy's writing? I am to be honest, it seems wild. Absolutely insane


	5. Parties and Problems

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percy attends his party with Ginny, has fun with Oliver, and... gets fired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this chapter is incredibly late. I have been writing! Just not for this story. I didn't expect it to be so long? (this chapter is another 4000 words I think) and I totally lost my inspiration, motivation, and passion. I committed to it, though, and I've gotten this far, so I'm going to finish it for everyone who's been commenting. My writing has definitely improved since the last chapter and I hope you like it?? constructive criticism is welcome honestly. I'm worried about my characterization. Is percy too funny? is Ron too nice? Ron probably changed after the war to be less petty and explosive but I don't actually know that.
> 
> and just for the record: Percy has unresolved trauma that comes up, not totally a panic attack or anything but definitely a moment of panic and fear and it's a background theme about how it affects him

Percy moaned into his pillow. 'I don't want to go to work,' he said pathetically. Oliver landed a firm slap on his rear, jolting him out of his cocoon of blankets. He frowned.

'Aww, Perce, don't worry. I'll have lunch with you if you want. And we can take the dogs for a walk, have an extra long lunch. There's no way that today isn't salvageable!' Oliver cried. He was so goddamn optimistic. It irritated Percy as much as it helped him. 

'Whatever. I want them to dive off the fucking deep end. Do you know how hot and cold Ron is? When Dad's there, he gets wimpy, but when we're alone, he's decent, at least.’ He turned around and made a plaintive face at Oliver. 

He let out an annoyed grunt, tugging on stiff, stubborn Quidditch leathers. Percy narrowed his eyes. Was he annoyed at Percy or the uniform? ‘Percy, it isn’t that bad. If you want, you can just quit. It wouldn’t be a surprise,’ he said. With a final pull, the uniform slid on. 

Percy flattened his lips. ‘No,’ he snapped. ‘No, I’m not a quitter. I quit on my family, and that was bad enough, and I worked so hard for the Ministry, and I won’t quit then, either.’ He shook his head. Oliver sighed. 

He walked over, placing a gentle kiss on top of Percy’s head and pressing his thumbs into his shoulders. Percy stared blankly at the wall. ‘Sorry, honey. I know that it’s difficult to admit weakness and shit for you.’ Percy screwed up his face, at odds with the relaxation he projected. ‘I just want you to be happy.’ How sweet was that? Percy finally granted Oliver a smile. 

‘I know. Jesus, they just-’ He made a frustrated motion with his hands. ‘They’re so maddening, you don’t understand.’ Oliver hummed in commiseration. ‘I can’t seem to get my emotions under control around them, and that’s just as awful. I can’t…’ he sighed. 

‘You don’t want to disappoint him, Percy. He’s your dad, that’s understandable, yeah? I can’t imagine what it’s like. It’s going to take time.’ Percy nodded. 

‘Thanks, Ollie. Is that lunch offer still on the table?’ He smiled impishly, capturing Oliver’s lips and sucking them red. ‘If we have an extra extra long lunch, I think we could find time to pound you into the mattress,’ he said.

Oliver gasped. ‘Not in front of the dogs, you heathen!’ he shouted, pulling Beau close. Percy’s face crinkled with another smile. ‘Have a good day at work, dear!’ Oliver shouted, waving goodbye. 

‘Have fun playing with your balls!’ Percy replied. He snorted at his own joke, pulling on a jacket and shoes. His ensemble for the day was some particularly nice robes, bought fresh from Madam Malkin’s. Beautiful silk.

‘Don’t talk like that around them, they deserve better!’ Oliver shouted. ‘Don’t listen, baby, we love you,’ he said, quieter, to Beau. Percy left the flat with a smile on his face. Fucking ridiculous Oliver. 

So dumb. Honestly, why on earth he’d ever gotten with him at Hogwarts was a mystery. He was gorgeous, and funny, the only person who bothered to pay much attention to Percy, but still. His Hogwarts years were a time when he struggled so badly with his growing identity- both the fact that he was gay, and the alien way he felt around his family- that it was a miracle he had any friends at all. 

He entered the Floo, holding his eyes shut to ward away the ash. It always ended up inside his nose, dusting his ears, and soaked into his clothes. But he still used the Floo instead of walking, that day. He wanted to avoid the crushing crowds of the Atrium, so he entered the Minister’s Floo instead of the main one. It gave him a tiny rush, jolting the fast type of magic through his body, the one that made duels feel so good. There was a muggle word for it- adrenaline. 

If the Minister found him like this… Percy chuckled, moving leisurely through the office. There were a few nice trinkets. A noise outside the door spurred him into action. Merlin, what was he thinking? The Minister’s office was not his playground. 

‘Morning, Perce,’ Ron grumbled, inhaling his coffee. Arthur wasn’t there yet, it was just him and the two of them. ‘I think they’re getting started on the tunnels today,’ he commented. 

Percy blanked for a moment. The tunnels? What did he mean? ‘Emergency escape tunnels?’ he sniffed. ‘I’m glad they’re listening to some sense.’

Ron chuckled. ‘Yeah, I’m glad too.’ Percy blinked in surprise, smiling tentatively. Ron,, before the war, would have taken offense at that statement. He was more mature- or he and Percy were working together to make this security, and that softened him up. 

‘Hey. Um. Percy, do you think that Percy and Draco might be coming back? Soon, or… ever?’ 

With a frank expression directed towards Potter, Percy let his verdict slip. ‘I’m sure he’s just as interested in you as you are in him.’ Potter blushed red. He was another person who was a bit more bearable. 

A lot more bearable, in fact. Percy had dealt with him for his last three years at Hogwarts and the time where he was a surrogate son, but never once had Percy liked him so much. It was a dual maturity. ‘Yeah, fine,’ Potter muttered, still red in the face. 

Percy went back to his work with a trace of a smile on his face. 

A flurry of paper and a shouted curse interrupted his smile and all of his happiness. Arthur was back. Every day, Percy went in, hoping against reason that that would be the day his former father wouldn’t be there to bother him with clumsiness, incompetence, and righteousness. The day still hadn’t come. Maybe at Christmas, he’d get another Weasley sweater and the gift of a new job. 

‘Ah, they’re starting the tunnels today!’ his father said, grinning like an idiot in the doorway. ‘Always feels good to get progress, doesn’t it?’ he asked Percy, rapping a fist on his desk. 

Percy directed a casual Stinging Jinx at his hand. ‘I’m leaving early for lunch today.’ 

Arthur brushed the imaginary dust from his muggle coat. Percy didn’t believe in prejudice, not against muggles, but he hated that jacket with every fiber of his being. It was ugly, dirty, and a blight to his mother’s skill with alterations. ‘Well, that’s fine, isn’t it? Today seems like a good day, right, Harry?’ 

‘Wow, thanks for the mention.’ Percy caught Ron’s mutter from across the room, and smiled despite himself. He always did like Ron the most out of every brother, even the years where he was a crappy brother. 

When he had told his father he’d be leaving early, Percy meant it. He stood up to leave at around eleven and made his way out of the room, brisk and intentionally ignoring any calls for attention his father called out with. ‘Percy!’ Oliver cried, waiting outside their favorite gay-friendly restaurant. 

They met in a kiss, firm and excited. ‘I’ve had quite the day. Do you know how well Ginny’s been doing? I’m proud of her,’ Oliver confessed. 

Percy snorted. ‘She always wished she could be part of your team, more than anything.’ 

Oliver smiled, following the waiter to their table. ‘It would have been cool. All of you Weasleys are good at- uh, sports. He glanced up at the muggle waiter. ‘I’d like the Monte Cristo sandwich.’ 

Percy made a face despite himself. He’d had enough of heavy foods when he was at Hogwarts, so that deep fried monstrosity would never sit on his plate. ‘I would like the salad nicoise, please. Water for both of us.’ 

He nodded. ‘I should be here with your food in ten minutes or so,’ he said, tucking hteir menus into a pocket on his apron. Percy nodded, forcing his gaze to Oliver’s. 

‘I was thinking lunch, and then straight home for a quickie?’ The other man smiled. 

‘Sounds like a plan,’ he said huskily. 

They emerged, so sated and a little sore, from their bedroom. Oliver mouthed at Percy’s neck, a little messy but so good. Percy settled his hands on Oliver’s broad waist, yanking their bodies together. ‘I- I have to get back to work,’ Oliver said, reaching out to straighten his robes. 

Percy sighed in regret. ‘Fine. I’ll see you later. We-’ He hesitated, closing his eyes and continuing into the cramped living room. ‘We still on for this weekend? Your party?’ 

Oliver nodded. ‘Yeah,’ he replied quietly. ‘I already told her we’d both be there.’ Percy shrugged. He did want to go, but Ginny was an enigma, as much as the memories he had of her were clear. Their lives had been wrecked and rebuilt, they were all different. 

‘She likes dogs, you know. Should we invite her over if we’re friends after this?’ He grimaced at his own suggestion, holding out one hand for his overexcited Scarlett to nuzzle into. 

‘Yeah. Yeah, I could be your sous chef. Pasta would be great, especially if it was homemade. I’ll take care of the details so you don’t back out.’ 

Percy smiled indulgently. ‘Good idea.’ Percy would back out, knowing his lack of bravery, for all he was a Gryffindor. 

‘I’ll see you tonight.’ Oliver kissed him softly, on the lips. 

The only robe Percy had that would be suitable for a party was in a terrible shade of red, one that didn’t suit him at all, and everyone knew he was terrible at color charms. So it wasn’t going great ‘Ollie!’ he shouted, summoning his boyfriend from the kitchen. Oliver was very stylishly dressed, in a nice robe that flattered his muscular form. 

Percy very briefly lost his train of thought. 

‘Oh, I can change that. What do you want? Black? Green?’ he asked. 

Percy blinked, a warmth unfolding in his chest. ‘You read my mind. Green, please,’ he requested, standing up to dust himself off. Less lint would make the charm hold better. 

‘We do have to go soon. Give me five minutes, okay, and then we can leave together, I just need shoes.’ Oliver’s voice got muffled and louder as he left the room and started to yell whatever he was trying to communicate. Percy fondly rolled his eyes. ‘Hat or no hat?’ Oliver shouted.

‘Hat!’ he replied, straightening his socks and shoes. ‘Scarlett, oh, good girl. Come here, it’s time for dinner before we leave,’ he said. She banged into the wall, the same one that she always did, in her haste to get to the food. ‘Beau!’ he called out. The scrabble of claws on the floor always made him cringe, but he put up with it. 

The dogs had been an impulse decision, and a lonely one. He didn’t regret the big sweethearts, but it did make his throat a bit lumpy to think of how pathetic he had been. ‘They fed? Ready to go?’ Oliver asked, breathless. Percy would never be able to get away with being so disheveled, but Oliver was a handsome, grinning Quidditch player, and he would not be deterred.

‘I’m ready.’ He patted her furry head, scratching behind the ear, and slapped Beau’s side the way he liked. ‘TIme to go.’

Oliver held in a laugh, he could tell. ‘You have dog hair all over you.’ 

Percy scowled. ‘Whatever. Let’s just go.’ He was not fussy. He was calm, and about to see his little sister again. He was nervous, and excited, and hoped to be a gentle and kind man. 

At the party, all of Oliver’s groupies and friends greeted them, politely pretending that Percy was merely his good friend and roommate. It made them exchange a smile, wry and a little amused. And there she was. The only other redhead there. Her hair had been lopped off into a chic bob, and she was drinking a butterbeer, holding onto Neville’s hand. Percy sucked in a breath. 

‘Go get her,’ Oliver said quietly, pushing him over. Percy looked back at him, a little desperate for back up. 

‘Percy,’ she said quietly, as if she could not quite believe her own eyes. 

His head swung around to look at her. She was beautiful, and under that was a cold anger, but she so obviously still thought of him as her big brother. ‘Ginny. And Neville Longbottom, too, I see. Congratulations on the engagement,’ he said, wishing his voice wasn’t always so prim and proper. 

Because he felt absolutely filled with emotion. He was choking on it, especially when she hesitantly smiled and nodded. ‘You’re here with Oliver?’ 

‘Yes, yes. I am. I- live with him, and I heard when you got Chaser. I’m really quite proud of you, Ginny, that’s impressive.’ That was more like it, he thought with satisfaction, he was proud and eager and he was going to make this right. 

Neville smiled. ‘It’s always been one of those things that she’s just so good at,’ he said, looking between the two. On the outside, they were estranged siblings, ones who desperately missed each other. ‘Why don’t we find somewhere in the shade?’ he asked abruptly. 

Percy nodded. ‘Yes. Let’s,’ he forced out, straightening his posture into a painful line and following them away. ‘How have you been? It’s, it’s been a while.’ 

And just like that, she was a bright red hurricane. ‘I’m quite sure that’s not my fault, Percy,’ she said. It brought vivid memories of his mother and father. 

‘It’s mine,’ he admitted, though he’d known it for a while. Her face softened. 

‘Neville, why don’t you bring us a few drinks?’ she asked. Neville looked at the butterbeer in her hands, still full, and nodded, backing away. He mouthed something at her- probably good luck- before he went off. ‘I’m not angry with you, but I know that dad sure as hell is, and Bill thinks you’ve been childish, and the twins can’t decide if they want you back or if they want you sent to Azkaban.’ 

‘Is it bad to say that I was expecting something like that?’ he managed. She let out a surprised laugh. 

‘You’ve always been very good at making logical predictions,’ she said, smiling with only a little sadness. 

Percy nodded to himself, stiffening. ‘Right. I’m going to say this once, Ginny, and it’s that I’m sorry. I was wrong. You were right, you were all right and I admit that I did let my self importance cloud my judgement. You deserved a better brother than the one I have been, and I’m sorry for that too.’ 

They dove straight into it. Ginny’s eyes narrowed, assessing his sincerity. ‘I accept your apology, and for what it’s worth, I’m sorry too. I did see what was going wrong with the family, but I didn’t see it or even try to understand it.’ She paused. ‘At least, I didn’t try to understand from your end. There were other factors at play than just our political differences, and it- it allowed us to villainize you.’ 

He blinked in surprise. ‘Well, I have to say i wasn’t expecting that,’ he laughed. Ginny shrugged, smiling. 

‘You’re doing well? I swear you’re smiling more,’ she teased, sitting back. His lips poked up in another smile, involuntary. 

‘I’m very happy with the situation I’m in at the moment,’ he said softly. 

Ginny snorted. ‘If I had someone as hot as Oliver Wood, I’d be happy too,’ she said coyly, like a mischievous little weasel. 

Percy spluttered. ‘Polite company!’ he hissed. She grinned, scooting closer, and he reluctantly smiled. ‘I guess we are a bit obvious.’ 

‘You look practically lovesick, I love it. We didn’t see you happy very often, before,’ she mused. Percy shrugged. 

‘It was my own fault,’ he informed her. ‘I was very dedicated to being unhappy.’ She leaned in for a hug, one he endured with a tiny, near-invisible smile. 

‘So you’re coming to my wedding, right? You can be Oliver’s date,’ she said quickly. ‘You didn't make it to Bill’s, he’ll be glad to see you.’ Percy shrugged, and she reached out to rest a hand on his arm. The touch wasn’t entirely unwelcome. ‘Get that pinchy look off of your face. You’ll be fine.’

Percy snorted. ‘That’s- no offense, Ginny, but that’s a crock of shit. Bill probably hates me.’

‘None of us hate you, God, Percy, can you just get that through your head?’ she shouted, not loud enough to draw attention. ‘I just want to slap you. You aren’t a failure, you aren’t- whatever you did, I don’t care. Did you murder anyone?’ she spat. 

‘I might as well have-’ he hissed back, but she interrupted him, hands clutching tight to his arm like claws. 

‘You didn’t! You never did anything awful, Percy,’ she said. Her arms were shaking with rage. ‘Stop doing this to yourself! None of us are going to hate you for not being perfect this one time! You’re not worthless, or a failure! For fuck’s sake, Mum thinks she’s in the wrong more than you are, for- for not doing enough to support you!’

‘See? That’s my point, she’s not, that makes me a bad-’

‘It doesn’t make you a bad person! You just need to apologize!’ she cried. Part exasperation and part fierce protection, that was his little sister. 

‘Do you think dad will forgive me that easily? The twins?’ 

She shook her head, resting it on his shoulder. He was reminded of how much he wanted to go to her wedding. It was easily one of the things he’d always wanted. Slow dance with her and tell her how proud he was. Percy sagged. ‘Fine,’ he whispered angrily. ‘But I don’t expect them to like me.’

‘Charlie and Bill won’t mind it, Ron is always telling anecdotes about the office anyway, he obviously doesn’t hate you, and if you need help, I’ll rescue you.’ Why did she always have to be so bloody reasonable? 

‘Okay. I’d better get new dress robes, shouldn’t I? Your wedding is probably semi-formal.’ He made a face. 

‘What a prick thing to say, Percy, honestly,’ she laughed. He choked at her language, looking down at her fondly. 

When had his little sister become all grown up?

Work was being a little dick to him lately, as the deadlines were coming up and he had shit-all finished. Absolutely nothing about their project had been contributed by him. Mostly, he vented his frustration by complaining to his dogs and delegating in increasingly controlling ways. ‘What are you doing?’ he snapped at Ron. 

Harry rolled his eyes, and Percy scowled. The audacity! ‘Calm yourself, I’m just writing up this shit,’ Ron replied. ‘Is there anything else I can do? I’m bored to tears.’ 

‘Bloody hell,’ Harry muttered. ‘Not this again.’ 

It was as if Percy wasn’t crabby. He was so fucking done with all of this shit, the overheated, cramped room and the people inside of it and the crippling desire to run as far away from the Ministry of Magic as he possibly could. It ached at his bones. ‘What’s going on here?’ 

Authoritarian Arthur come to resolve the disagreements, as if he weren’t biased against Percy, as if he would forgive Percy. Ginny was a wonderful person, but Merlin, she didn’t understand what Percy stood for anymore. He was not simply a brother, or a son, he was the embodiment of hatred and blindo obedience, a fucking worthless piece of shit that couldn’t keep his home issues at home. Christ. 

‘I’m just grouchy today,’ Ron said. An understatement, but God, did Percy appreciate it. He didn’t want Arthur on his back today, when all his shit was magnified. Someone had taken a magnifying glass to his trauma and everyone could fucking see it now. 

‘And I’m just done. I was working on documents about the secret tunnels, to help you, Ron, but I’m going to fuck off now. I’m taking an early lunch,’ he snapped. Arthur’s lips flattened, but Percy didn’t even bother looking back. 

The hallways of the Ministry always looked like a wasteland. Percy could remember going with his Dad when he was little. He could remember getting a lolly from the Welcome Witch and watching, wide eyed, as all of the big, happy people bustled about. His dad, smiling and greeting cheerfully, always stuck out in his mind. As the unpopular, spotty, stuck up teenager at Hogwarts, that had always been the dream. He’d grow out of his awkwardness and go on to be happy at a job where he was well liked and competence was prized. 

The hallways were bare, and he always felt an urgent, crippling need to get out as quickly as possible. No windows, not even the enchanted ones, because no one could really bother, and a scuffed floor from people wearing it down, year after year. Gray walls that had once been white completed the look of a corporate realm of terror. His stomach turned as he rushed through the hallways too quickly. He stopped short before he bumped into some passing witch, heart beating frantically beneath his ribs.

‘Sorry,’ he muttered. He was glad for the distraction. 

‘S alright,’ she said back, just as mousy and quiet. 

Percy’s stomach turned over again. ‘Hey!’ He ignored the voice behind him, carrying on about his business, no one was paying attention, he was absolutely fine, normal, even- ‘Hey, Perce, are you okay?’ Ava caught up to him, and his heart stuttered back to life.

‘Sorry. Thought you were someone else,’ he said dully. 

She knew just what to do, leaning in and enveloping him in a soft hug. His eyes squeezed shut, everything off kilter. The world around him wasn’t quite right, he knew. Nothing was quite right. ‘C’mon. You’re okay. Where were you going?’ she asked. 

‘I don’t know.’ He blinked, taking a deep breath. ‘Just having a bad day.’ Ava looked at him in concern, eyebrows furrowing. 

‘Well… you take care of yourself, Percy, really, we all love you.’ She bit her lip, leaning in to hug him again. ‘If you’re feeling down, just write some more.’ Percy had real work to do, things that he couldn’t avoid, though. 

‘Want to grab lunch?’ She smiled tentatively. 

‘Sure, yeah. I’d like that.’ 

Percy trudged back into the Ministry, wishing that jobs didn’t exist and he could just be a lazy bum all day. Or at least that he could just do something fun. The shine had worn off awhile ago. The room, when he approached, could be felt. A sweltering, unrelenting heat. He walked through the door, only to be met by his father, spitting mad. 

‘What is this?’ he thundered, shoving… Percy’s manuscript, holy- Ron was right there, and Harry, too. 

‘I don’t know,’ he said, voice unusually thin. Frayed. Normally, this type of thing would get Ron to look closely at him, but his face was trembling with rage. 

Arthur’s hands clenched on the book. ‘You’re such a bad liar, Percy,’ he said, dangerously quiet. ‘I can’t believe this.’ 

‘Why not? You think I’m perfect?’ he asked bitterly, backing away. He’d known this was coming from the moment he became a deadbeat, slacking, awful employee. 

‘I thought you cared! I thought you cared at least a bit about- about the safety you’re ensuring here! Instead, you’re letting ink dry on a useless piece of fiction. I’m disappointed.’ 

‘Fuck off,’ Percy growled, snatching the paper out of his hands and stalking to his desk. 

‘You’re just letting us go through all of this work without doing a thing?’ Ron asked. He even seemed hurt, not angry. Percy’s poor stomach was sucked through a blender of emotions, and the bad things he’d forgotten about while he was with Ava had reappeared in full glory again. 

‘Sorry if I’m not-’ 

‘Shut your mouth, you’re not doing anything. You know we can’t keep this a secret. It’s purposeful laziness,’ Arthur said harshly. ‘Your employment will be terminated by the end of the week.’ His voice even sounded heavy, tragic. 

It infuriated Percy to no end. ‘Thanks, then, for going through my personal things and finding the one thing that you didn’t like. It helped me a lot with trusting you, and-’

‘Ron was just trying to find the maps of the caved in Hall of Prophecy, actually,’ Harry whispered. 

Percy let out a dramatic, pathetic huff, and stuffed as much as he could into his cardboard box of goodies, snatching it from the desk with trembling fingers. ‘You don’t have to wait until the end of the week, Dad, I’ll go right now.’

Arthur started forward.

But Percy was already gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comment pleaseeeeee i live for positive feedback and kind criticism. literally you can insult me and i'll still feel happy because it means you read my story.


	6. Turned to Ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding comes, and Percy flees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I always knew it would end up here but I never knew where I would make it? but I've been feeling bad mentally lately and it's come across in my writing I'm sure lol. very anxious chapter. Like actually!! he has a minor anxiety attack it's very chaotic very sad I don't even know. nightmares, nerves, Oliver is terrible mentally everyone is a mess. 
> 
> I don't know if this makes a lot of sense but I sort of want t say why I brought it here??? no one wants to hear it lol but I don't know how much subtext is in there to get it across. the previous chapters were a lot more lighthearted but I tried to put in a little bit of angst and general not-doing-so-well. Percy is existing in a very, very delicate balance. nothing is quite right, but he's doing "fine." he hates his job but it gives him something to do, he hates his family but they give him some sort of direction. and he's fallen apart once this is turned over, he has ptsd, and depression dating back to his teenage years, virtually no healthy coping mechanisms, his family relationships have crumbled to bits. that's why this chapter is such a turnaround. Percy has been a mess for ALL of this story but he's been fooling himself, very effectively, that he is fine. unfortunately, now he's sad :(

Percy sank to his knees, wishing that Oliver was home, not somewhere in Scotland on a Quidditch field to practice. He wanted Oliver to be home, to not feel sick. He felt awful, curled up at the bottom of the shower. 

The water grew cold enough that he turned it off. 

‘Beau?’ he asked, wrapping up into a towel and some boxers. Underwear hadn’t been a thing for wizards until the end of the first war with Voldemort. Percy was glad, it was quite uncomfortable to sit with your nearly bare ass on a stone bench in the heat of summer, knowing that many people had sat there, the exact same way, when the Wizengamot was in session. They had fussy old rules like that. No underwear, well made robes only. Percy couldn’t quite believe how far they’d come. 

The two dogs came around the corner together, curling up on a section of couch. Percy joined them, spelling his hair dry. He’d fired the dog walker. He should probably get a new job. Instead, his leaden limbs led him to the couch three days in a row. He wasn’t sure that anyone knew he was missing, as if he were a ghost at Hogwarts passing on. Moaning Myrtle felt sympathetic to him. Moaning Myrtle. 

He had to stop feeling sorry for himself. It would be the best way to get back on his feet. Instead, he spelled a cup of tea his way, sipping at it with pursed lips. Beau, the little brat, nosed into his lap, so he threaded his fingers through the fur. ‘Needy mutt,’ he said softly, burying his face into the dogs fur. It was all freshly brushed. He’d run out of things to do after only two days, lacking inspiration or depth or anything worthwhile- 

‘Percy?’ Oliver shouted, walking in. ‘Why is the door unlocked? Are you at work, or…’ He trailed off as he caught sight of Percy on the couch, in his robe. 

‘I got fired.’ It was all he said, but it was enough. Oliver fucking knew, through sleepless nights or summers described in detail, that Percy hated being a worthless fucking failure, there was a reason he’d taken every OWL he could, and been good at his NEWTS, and nothing ever was good enough for his family, but the Ministry… 

The Ministry was a childhood dream realized. A shitty one, sure, but it was his only real accomplishment. ‘We’ll be fine.’

‘I won’t be,’ Percy murmured, stroking Beau’s golden fur and scritching his belly. ‘What am I supposed to do?’ he asked bitterly. ‘I’m tired.’

‘Percy- you can’t, Percy, no, please don’t do this again. Seriously, this is unhealthy. Percy, don’t hide from me. Please,’ Oliver said, like he was coaxing an animal. Percy looked up at him blankly, jaw tight. 

‘What?’ he asked, shutting his eyes so he could block out the desperate, worried look on Oliver’s face. Beau leaned forward to lick his cheek, but he didn’t even reach out to the dog. Certainly didn’t reach out to Oliver, who had to be conflating this with other times Percy had hit a low.

Percy had depressive episodes the same way people had sweets. He could identify one per year since he was twelve, and they just kept getting worse. He could feel this one scraping through his bones, a brokenness Skelegrow could never fix, deflating him into little pieces. 

‘Percy, this is ridiculous. Get up, come on. It’s not the end of the world.’ Percy plastered on a wan smile. 

‘Sure it isn’t,’ he agreed. ‘It’s just the worst case scenario.’ Oliver scowled at him.

‘Percy, it isn’t that-’ 

He buried his head into a pillow, eyes tired and wet, wishing that he were on the wrong end of Bellatrix Lestrange’s wand. 

A gentle hand rubbed across his back. ‘Sorry. It is that bad, really. Do you want-’ Percy shook his head. Mindless offers of tea or biscuits were the way Oliver provided comfort, and he didn’t really feel up to eating. Instead, he felt the heat of Oliver’s body settle in beside him, nestled on the right side of the bed. The dogs bounced up, too, settling in wherever there was a free space.

<->

For Percy, it had happened before. He knew the symptoms of depression, ever present. The only reason he even moved from his bed anymore were the nights that Oliver was home from practice and he had to feign happiness. Everything was, in one fell swoop, gone. His inspiration, his warmth, his hope for a family reunion. Even the thought of it was bitter. Why had he ever thought he would be happy at some wedding? Things like that were foreign. Foreign after the fucking war, one that he hadn’t even believed existed, like some easily taken in fool to be molded.

Percy’s cheek, buried into a pillow, twitched into a frown. Hating yourself was exhausting, but he knew the patterns too well to actually stop. ‘Uh- Perce?’

Percy’s bloodshot eyes flew open. That was Oliver’s voice. He wasn’t meant to be home for another day. ‘I’m changing my robes just now, Oliver. I’ll be with you in a minute?’ His voice wavered.

‘It’s noon, you’re just getting dressed?’ he laughed. Now, if Percy was lucky, he wouldn’t come in before he could put on his happy face.

‘Almost reminds me of that one summer. After my first year. You never ’ Ginny was here? 

Percy’s hands shook. ‘I do remember that,’ he said, walking into the living room. ‘What are you doing here, Gin?’ he asked, eyes flicking back and forth. 

She smiled in amusement. ‘I heard you got fired from your job because you were writing lesbian fiction instead of working.’ The color drained from his face, leaving only a glare behind as he sunk into his seat. 

‘Did he tell everyone?’ Percy asked. If he kept up this amount of stress, of invisibility, his freckles would disappear. Oliver sat beside him on the couch, and it was all he could do not to shove him away like he was five again and Fred was bothering him while he was reading. 

Ginny looked a little discomfited. ‘I- I guess, we thought it was funny. Who knew you liked to think of women kissing each other?’ she laughed. 

Percy felt really and truly sick. ‘You do realize I prefer men, don’t you?’ he spat. ‘Or did the fact that I live with Oliver Wood in a flat with only one bed not give it away?’ 

Finally, she seemed to realize the gravity of it all. ‘Percy, no one’s-’

‘I’m fired, Ginny!’ he exploded. ‘I lost my job and I lost my dignity, and all you have to say is that I must be a pervert,’ he seethed. She and Oliver exchanged a look.

He was too tired to deal with it, all at once. ‘They feel bad about it, Percy,’ she said quietly, padding over to sit next to him. She was barefoot, in a loose Muggle-style dress and sweater, with her hair swinging at her shoulders. She’d cut it. ‘It isn’t to mock you. I think Dad, especially-’

‘Don’t talk about Dad to me, would you? He’s almost fifty and he doesn’t even know how to apologize.’

‘You don’t, either.’ Percy glared at her, then to Oliver, who’d moved closer when he wasn’t looking. 

‘I don’t care, Ginny. He isn’t kind enough to even respect me, you know? I was living quietly. I liked that.’ When she leaned her head against his shoulder, he couldn’t bring himself to push her away. ‘Do you ever see him care about me? Stop and think about what would have happened to me in the Ministry while all of you were in some safehouse? I shouldn’t have been blind.’

He was afraid she would argue that point, that he didn’t deserve to feel terrified when there were people dying. It was a rare scene, Percy allowing himself to feel really and truly sorry for himself. The magnitude of what had happened to him, that was scary. Same with everything that happened after, the months and months of quiet where he sewed himself back together, only to be torn to bits again, waving in the wind like a ragged white flag. 

‘I know I shouldn’t- I should have done something during ‘95 and ‘96, okay? I know. But do you think he even worried about me? I worried about him, I worried for all of you.’ His fingers clenched, his breath caught. He was staring at the corner of their flat with the table, but he wasn’t really seeing anything. ‘I don’t know if he’d understand the way I operated, but I really don’t think he’d care either way.’

‘Percy,’ she gasped. 

Oliver’s warm, tanned skin touched his, snapping him away from his mind. ‘Ginny, even if Arthur does care, it isn’t like he shows it,’ he said, sounding uncomfortable with inserting himself in.

Percy saw Ginny get a little more prickly. ‘Well, he does, Percy! Maybe if you could see that-’ 

Percy turned a look on her, ignoring the way she chewed at her lip. ‘I can’t just see it. Would everyone stop telling me how I’m supposed to love him, or something? I do love him, but everyone in our family knows that I’m his least favorite! Have I ever been worth anything to him?’ he asked, crossing his arms and looking at the ground. 

‘I- I’m sorry, Percy. I know it’s difficult to see, but-’ She exhaled, drawing him into a hug on her tiptoes. ‘It’s difficult to see, even for me. I just really love mum and dad, I suppose. But not more than I love you. I guess I wanted to say that I’d like for you to still come to my wedding, I don’t want you to miss it,’ she said, pressing her cheek to his bony shoulder. 

He wanted to say no, badly enough that it tore at his chest. He didn’t want to sit, gangly legs pressed up against the back of someone’s chair, watching the family festivities from afar. He wouldn’t be able to dance with Oliver- the twins would have the greatest laugh at his expense- or say his congratulations to Ginny. But still. It would be happy, and he wanted to see her decked out in white, kissing Neville Longbottom. 

‘Fine,’ he sighed. She buried her head into his chest, smile pressed to his ribcage. 

The big day was upon them. The wedding. ‘Oliver!’ he called. ‘You leave a minute early, so it looks like we’re not arriving together!’ He popped his head into the bedroom, where Oliver was getting dressed. ‘Or maybe arrive a minute later than me, that’s more realistic,’ he teased. Oliver Wood was always late.

Oliver came up to him, reaching his muscly, delightful arms around Percy and tipping his neck up for a languid kiss. ‘I’m never late. Everyone else is just early.’

‘That’s a lie,’ he said immediately, backing them against the bed, Oliver spread out on his lap. ‘D’you really want to challenge McGonagall’s authority?’ 

‘Eh. She’s a powerful witch, sure, but would she melt for these biceps?’ he asked, flexing his arms. Percy idly twirled some of his soft brown hair, nothing like the red rat’s nest on his own head. 

‘I have it on good authority that she enjoys reading the kinds of books I enjoy writing.’ He kissed the ticklish spot behind Oliver’s ear, burying his nose into the orange smelling hair there. With Oliver on his lap, they were almost the same height. 

‘Eh? Who would’ve thought?’ Oliver said, looking disturbed. ‘We should get going.’ he hopped off the bed, almost looking like the smiling eleven year old Percy had first known. ‘See you in five!’ He held his breath, throwing down the floo powder. 

The smile dropped off of Percy’s face. Hit by wistfulness, he leaned back on the bed. It would mess up his carefully done hair, but there was no one to stop him. It was so daunting, the upcoming wedding, that it made said hair prickle. Or, no, that was his eyes. He was crying. 

There was no use in stopping the tears. Every time he thought he could be normal, and functioning, some block stood in the way. It was indescribable, the fear of looking his father in the eye. Sent his heart jackrabbiting. Knowing how Arthur thought he was worthless, that he knew of the little scribbles Percy churned out, and that he knew exactly what Percy was always doing when he was supposed to be successful drained any pleasure he’d get out of watching his baby sister get married. 

He was the slightest bit late, but not so much so that the ceremony would begin without him. The venue was beautiful. He was lucky it wasn’t the Burrow, because seeing his childhood home would really make the tears fall. There were a few familiar faces scattered in the crowd, ones he’d seen in Ron’s year. No other Weasleys, and that made his heart ache all over again. They were with Ginny, helping her get ready. He was the one brother missing from whatever room Ginny was sequestered in, getting ready. His mum would be there, shining with pride. The twins would crack a couple of jokes, and Bill would help her fluff her hair. 

Percy’s hands folded limply in his lap. Oliver was talking with a couple guys from his team- hopefully they wouldn’t tell anyone about the relationship he and Percy had. Big white banners hung from the ceiling, gorgeous flowers everywhere. And it was a pureblood wedding, of course, so they had attendees up their ass. No one would see him in the back. 

God, did Percy hate himself. He’d ruined his family. He’d ruined them. He wanted to be with them, fussing over the fit of his baby sister’s shoes, not having a near panic attack in the audience. He shoved a nail up into his mouth, ready to be bitten to the quick. Bad habit, he wanted to yell at himself. You’re not a baby, take your goddamn fingers out of your mouth. 

When Oliver sat beside him, he startled violently, hand on his wand. Instead of making a scene, Oliver only twined their fingers together, rubbing at Percy’s pounding pulsepoint. ‘You okay? You only bite your lip when you’re- well, y’know.’

Percy scooted closer, sitting half off the seat. ‘I’m just excited to see her walk down the aisle.’ His smile was false. The only part of his body that wasn’t a lie was his hand, and he hated it for its tremble. 

‘Well, it’s coming soon,’ he said, squeezing Percy’s fingers. He’d gotten there early enough, how long had he been sitting there in panic? Was that more scary or less, his lost time? 

Neville was already standing up at the front. ‘Oh,’ Percy gasped, seeing the very first groomsman start down the aisle a shock of red hair and a cheeky smile. Time ran quick until it was Ginny, their father holding her arm. All of a sudden, Percy felt sick. Arthur hated him. He was meant to be staring at the bride, but all he could see was the rumpled suit on Arthur’s body. He’d never been good at anti-wrinkle spells, Percy thought faintly. For a man with so many flaws, he would always be inherently better than Percy. Percy knew anti-wrinkle spells like the back of his hand. Percy also sat at the side of a fumbling dictator and watched as he cut away the rights of thousands of witches and wizards. 

What was he doing here? With some sister he didn’t even know anymore, spending every spare bit of energy to stop himself from running or forgetting to breathe. 

But then, Ginny turned a smile on him, soft and pleased, and he didn’t really feel like running anymore. His chest eased, enough that he could just watch as she continued up the aisle. White dress skirting the polished floor, music humming all around, enchanted bits of flowers tucking themselves everywhere the eye could see. ‘She’s gorgeous,’ Oliver whispered. Percy squeezed his hand.

Lace and satin buttons trailed down her back beneath a veil. Her hair was tucked up into a twist. She could have been a Veela. ‘I’m going to cry,’ he said faintly. Oliver kissed a tear off of his cheek. 

‘That could be us, soon.’ It could be. Percy watched the vows, marvelling again at how beautiful she was. How happy. Music played, a woman crooning in the background. Neville was smiling at her, just as awed by her joy as Percy was. 

His shaking hands finally stilled themselves. There had to be a potion in the air to have made him fine so quickly. He wiped a tear from his eye when they said their vows, Neville leaning in to kiss the bride. Ginny, his little sister, married. ‘Aww, you’re crying,’ Oliver said. Percy squeezed his hand, smiling faintly. 

A couple deep breaths. A quick smile while from his sister as she caught his eye. Percy blinked away more tears.

The happy couple turned down the aisle, and he raised the wand like the rest of them. Their voices blended together as they spelled sparks into the air, lifting like a hot air balloon. White dress sweeping the floor and grin sweeping into the eaves of the ceiling, Ginny walked past them. The farther she got, the more Percy’s smile faded. 

Because next was the reception. He pressed his hand against his forehead, like he was feverish and his mum was checking. He missed her hands, her bustle. ‘Are you feeling okay?’ Oliver asked, guiding him through the dispersing crowd. 

‘My head hurts,’ he said quietly, not daring to risk a voice that could crack.

‘Take some deep breaths.’ Oliver paused. ‘See if you can relax. I’ve got you, Perce- I, anything you need, love.’ Percy tucked his skinny knees closer to his body, ignoring the looks that they received. ‘Why don’t we see if we can get to the bathroom? Excuse us!’ he said cheerfully, passing by a couple wearing matching yellow robes. Percy wiped another tear from his eye, mustering a smile and searching for a handkerchief. 

He needed to hide, and cut everything down. Strip naked, or- or chop his hair off, kick off his shoes, leave the chapel, claw his throat out of his neck. The floor, underneath his shiny black shoes, made the loudest noises, standing out from the murmurs and chatter surrounding them. He was a ship, tossed around, trapped in a storm, eaves cresting, swallowing him. He had Oliver as an anchor, though. Oliver got them to the restroom, leading Percy by the hand, delicate fingers smoothing back his hair. Percy blew a strand of ginger out of his face. 

There was a green, velvety chair he collapsed in. It was a relief to be sitting again. ‘Percy, I’m sorry, I should have noticed back there-’

‘That I was losing it?’ he asked, a little shrill. Breathe in, hold, breathe out. He tapped out the rhythm on the floor with his feet. ‘I’d rather not be visibly crazy.’

Oliver squeezed next to him, angel eyes holding him in place. His hair was ruffled, too, face dewy and flushed with panic. ‘You’re not, Percy, I feel awful too. It’s terrible out there,’ he said, voice awfully quiet. 

Sometimes, Percy forgot just how brave Oliver had to be. He kept going, not stagnating in the pit of trauma where he became an agent of evil. Percy was not brave one bit. ‘Don’t feel bad for being scared, Ollie,’ he whispered, sniffling. ‘You’re brave, you’re wonderful.’

Oliver laughed, a little watery. ‘You too,’ he said. 

‘We should go.’ Percy dragged himself up. His pants were dusted with a spot of dirt, nothing too much. The bathroom was elegant and clean, what you’d expect from such a beautiful wedding venue. Oliver’s eyes stayed on him, watching. 

It was eerie, the way his eyes flashed in the lamplight of the bathroom. I don’t want to leave, he seemed to be saying. Percy was unable to speak. 

The floo sparked green when they passed through it. If Percy had felt nauseous before, from nerves and fear, it was nothing compared to after the journey. He laughed nervously, gripping his wand. ‘Dinner first?’ he asked quietly, eyes flicking around the room. 

‘No, we should dance,’ Oliver replied dryly. 

‘You know how I love attention.’ The dance floor was empty, awfully conspicuous. Percy snorted, edging away from the floo. Out here, it would be much harder to avoid his mum and dad. Panic edged against his throat again. Shards of glass ripping against the skin, a Death Eater quietly whispering crucio, the way he felt when he saw Oliver Wood, his old Hogwarts romance, walk into the doors of the Department of Magical Sports and Games. Seeing Oliver and knowing that soon he would be writhing on the floor, barely breathing from-

‘Percy? Is that you?’ His eyes darted towards Fred and George. 

‘By George, George, I think it is him! How are you doing, Percy, let a fellow know!’ Fred said, leaning in to shake his hand. George clapped a hand over his shoulder, grinning. 

Percy pursed his lips. ‘I’ve just come to see Ginny get married.’ He almost wanted to shut his mouth and refuse to speak anymore. Almost wanted to clam up.

‘Of course. Good idea, eh, Ron?’ Fred snagged Ron from a bit away. He was in a matching red set of robes to Fred and George, all of them groomsmen. Percy was not in red. 

Ron tentatively smiled over at Percy. ‘Nice to see you again, Perce. Ginny told me you were coming.’ Percy’s heart strained, his smile weakened. 

Had she told everybody? Why wouldn’t they ignore him? He was awful, he was… horrible, he’d been a brat, he’d enabled a would-be dictator. Percy wished they would ignore him. ‘We all heard about the big blow up, mate, and no offense to Dad, but it’s cool that you finally grew a pair. You never even skipped a class back at Hogwarts.’

‘Real up yours, Percy. We’re proud, aren’t we?’ Fred leaned in, smiling and pinching his cheek. Percy wanted their hands off. He wished Ron would get that furrow out of his brow. He’d had milk with breakfast that morning, and it felt as if it was curdling in his stomach. 

‘We sure are! You seem as uptight as ever, though. You reckon we could help him let loose? Ay, Bill!’ George shouted. Eyes swivelled to them. 

Oliver had faded to the background, but he stepped in. ‘Nice to see you again, boys. Not much use for Quidditch during the war, but the seasons are starting back up again,’ he tried. 

Ron looked worried, kept glancing at Percy until he offered a pained smile. All the pieces of the person he used to be were slipping away from his fingers, scraps of silk sliding down his body. How was he meant to react? There weren’t regulations about this, and there was barely a good reason to insist on sitting quietly to the side. Well. He’d never needed a good reason before, had he? 

‘George-’

‘Oliver! Good to see you, mate!’ George asked. Percy gnashed his teeth, pushing out from under the heavy arm on his shoulder. The weight of it didn’t leave. He still felt pressed down, scared as a rabbit in front of a wolf. He backed away, startling when he felt a hand on his arm.

Ron pulled him past Neville’s beaming grandmother, red-faced with alcohol and gushing to their aunt, into a hallway. ‘Percy, are you okay? You don’t-’

‘I’m fine,’ he snapped, backing against a wall. His knees were awfully weak for someone who was still, and orderly, nothing was wrong, couldn’t Ron believe that? ‘Maybe if you trusted me for once in your life, you’d believe that!’ he hissed, biting the inside of his cheek like it would keep the emotions in. His breathless ribcage heaved beneath the robes.

‘You look pale, is all.’ Ron’s face was uneasy. ‘I know Fred and George are-’

‘I’ve never even liked the two of them, I have no idea why they would want to talk to me. I’m better off as far away from them as possible! If you didn’t forget, they locked me in a pyramid once. The utter audacity! Not as bad as Arthur, though, at least they won’t be expected to have parenting skills. Listen, Ron, I think it’s best if you leave me alone,’ he bit out. His nails were leaving moon imprints in his palms within the folds between his robes.

‘Why’d you even come if you hate us that much, huh? Bloody load of shit, I say.’ It wasn’t Ron who spoke, but Fred, down the end of the hallway. Percy’s stomach did a curious flip when he saw the rest of the family gathered there. Words, ones he wanted to scream, bubbled through his stomach. He had food poisoning but with words, it was all going to come out if he opened his mouth. 

‘Fuck. Off.’ He tried to storm past. He really did. His mother was standing there, standing as still as if she were struck by lightning. He didn’t want to argue, he was much too tired. He tried his hardest, to just get past them. Get home. 

But the Weasley family was an explosion. 

‘You fuck off, you piece of shit! Don’t know why I even tried, fucking ridiculous that I-’

‘You can’t even put your family above your pride, Percy? Huh? You’re lazy. You’re an entitled prick, the only thing you ever did right was work hard and you can’t even do that, you can’t even put the safety of a thousand Ministry employees over-’

‘It’s disappointing to see you like this, you know? I never expected-’

And Percy was going to cry. He could see Oliver out there, standing stock still in between the oblivious guests and the brewing screaming match, and he just- needed to cry. Ginny was still in white, her face deathly pale and disappointed. The dress pushed him to get back to the floo. He didn’t want to ruin her day. Her big day. Her special day. Percy had wanted to play a doting older brother.

He got to the floo and left in a wash of green.

The dogs greeted him enthusiastically, getting hair all over his nice robes. He sobbed, a bit, wiping snot and tears against the fabric. ‘Scarlett,’ he sniffed quietly, stroking her soft, silky fur as she licked his cheek. Beau sat on him, even though he was heavy. 

He couldn’t say how long he sat there. Percy dozed off, tear tracks drying up, and woke up bloated and desperately sorry, staring into Oliver’s angel eyes. ‘Did I ruin the reception?’ His voice was strangely gravelly. 

‘No,’ Oliver whispered in return. They didn’t even bother to take their clothes off before getting into bed. Before he drifted off, he somehow mustered enough energy to think that he’d ruined Oliver. 

The boy who folded his Quidditch leathers before every game and enthusiastically talked about any team under the sun was gone. A numb wreck lay in his place. What happened to Percy repeated itself with anyone he touched. 

One Week Later 

The best thing about a dog was that they kept a schedule. Percy walked them twice every day, fed them twice, too, and found a way to spend an hour writing as they napped. There was an odd peace in his bones. 

When this sort of thing happened in his teenage years, it was different. It raged at him. He’d be angry all of the time, or obsessed with control, or sobbing into a pillow, hoping Oliver didn’t hear him. He’d long for Charlie or Bill to notice, even just check in instead of letting him go on like he did. Sometimes, usually during summer, when he was just bored, surrounded by people but lonely as fuck, he’d write. Better choice than sitting by the knife block in the dead of night, eating as many apples as he could fit into his mouth. 

Now, it was his bones. They’d lost something. Hollow as a bird’s, they lifted him above all of the human nonsense and into the freezing atmosphere. The only thing he could feel was numbness. Lovely, really. 

‘What’d you say?’ Oliver shouted. 

‘I said my day’s been lovely. What about yours?’ he replied after a moment’s pause. 

Oliver grunted. ‘Fine. Where’s the bacon, love?’ 

‘Shit. Forgot to go to the store.’ Oliver was quiet. 

‘Are you okay? You just seem forgetful,’ he said. Percy could tell that he was attempting to be understanding. Some shit like that. 

He rubbed at Scarlett’s belly, staring into the distance. ‘Just tired. This thing with my family is wearing me down.’

‘You can talk to-’

‘Shut up. Book club is tomorrow and I’m making meat pies. Will you be able to come home at noon, do you think?’ Percy asked. Change the subject. 

‘Yeah. I’m going to call it an early night, I’ve been tired too, we’re doing more reps and-’

‘That’s fine.’ Percy hadn’t had dinner. He didn’t particularly want any, either. He was fine, though. He leaned his head against Scarlett’s silky ear, sighing deeply. Fine.

Book club came and went. Percy scarcely remembered a word of it.

Beau was always one of those dogs that pulled on his leash. Bloody annoying, really. Scarlett was nicer, but she was obsessed with squirrels and Percy always felt like a rubber band with the way they pulled at all of his sides. 

‘She’s beautiful,’ a woman said, approaching hesitantly from a bench. She was American, so at least she had a reason to be overly friendly. Percy offered her a wan smile. 

‘Thank you.’

‘You know, I had one of those big dogs when I was growing up. She was sweet, she had-’ The woman really seemed to be nice, but Beau didn’t get the message. 

He took off at a run, dragging Percy and Scarlett with him. Straight towards the Ministry building. ‘Beau! You bloody idiot of a dog, slow down right now!’ Beau sped up. Of course he did. 

He ran straight into the red telephone box. Percy yanked him back, blowing a loose strand of hair out of his face. He saw himself, skinny and scared, reflected in the glass of the box. After the war, there had been bodies in the Ministry. Part of the building had wrecked. There were ten dogs that fished them out of the wreckage. Beau was one of them, he remembered. 

‘Hey, boy, we aren’t-’ Beau whined low in his throat, pushing his nose towards the box. 

Percy felt inexplicably sad. He wanted to go back, too. Even when it hurt. ‘Sure, let’s visit. Not like I’m a masochist or anything,’ he muttered. A quick spell, and they were invisible. He swallowed, crowding into the elevator. 

They started moving down the elevator before Percy remembered that he was sacked, unwelcome, and sunken inside a deep kind of terror. Merlin. Fuck his body and fuck everything that brought him down. 

The elevator landed with a quiet thump. 

Scarlett started barking, hearing the voices from the other side of the wall. Percy was a sculpture of ice, frozen still for now but melting. At least when he was playing the distant brother, the icy one, he had a form to fill. Now, he was turning to nothing. The three of them stepped through the door into the Atrium, still disillusioned. 

It was chaos. Smoke billowing from the fountain of the middle, flames licking up one wall with nowhere to go. Nearly empty, but he could hear frantic screams a few meters into a hallway. The floos were blocked by fire. It was hell. In the middle, a pile of bodies was burning. Redheads, it looked like. He moved closer, leaning down. 

Ginny’s face melted into Bellatrix Lestrange’s and he screamed, shooting awake. Oliver was gone. Playoff match in Scotland. 

It took him ten minutes of resting with his dogs to even find the energy or the courage to wave his wand and bring some tea to himself. It was an herbal blend, reminded him of his mum. Lots of sugar and cream. It ended up tasting salty from all of his tears. 

'Maybe I should try to mend it,' he sighed. There had been eight redheads in that pile of bodies, unable to escape because he was too lazy and disgusting to try, and Ginny had been so happy to see him at the wedding, and what if Fred or George got married soon? He wanted to stand at their side, boutonniere pinned to his robe, and coach them when times got rough, and hug his mom while she dabbed at her eyes, so happy to see all of her boys together and happy. Percy wanted to be happy. He stared into his cup of tea, remembering Trelawney's lessons.

Oh. He always forgot they bought bags instead of loose leaves, less mess. Only one way to decide, and that was on his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did you like it? then comment. otherwise I won't post the last chapter where everything gets better.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percy gives three apologies and gets one in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the last chapter.... this is lazy as fuck pls don't hate me

The first door was easy. He knocked, crisp and full. Ginny was tan when she answered, and suspicious. ‘I was-’ he began, stilted but soft. He had the voice down pat, usually, and the vaguely judgemental disapproval, but… he was far too tired to put on airs. ‘I hope you’ll forgive me,’ he said, aimless. Impractical. He should have made up a speech-

Ginny hugged him, slammed onto his chest, arms wrapped tight around him. Percy stumbled back, he had the strength of a patch of paper-thin skin, and hesitantly hugged her back. Her skin was rough and tumble, the way he’d always known it. She was tan- he’d heard the honeymoon was in France. ‘You’re back.’ 

‘I am,’ he replied quietly. Her breathing seemed to tremble. ‘I- I’m sorry, for leaving, so soon, you know, I was- I always do this, I shouldn’t have abandoned you, you worked so hard to convince me, I- I....’

‘Gin, who is it?’ Neville called. She let out a quick sob, burying her face into Percy’s shoulder. He shouldn’t cry. Crying was bad form, especially next to such an elegant woman who was losing her composure. 

His knees gave out and he hung on for dear life, a limp jellyfish clinging to the sea wall. ‘I’m sorry,’ he muttered again. She had Quidditch arms, much sturdier than his frail ones. She held on, held on to the important things. She hung onto the things she loved. Percy could barely keep his own spindly legs walking. 

‘Gin, is-’ Neville met Percy’s eyes over Ginny’s shoulder. ‘Do you want me to make a pot of tea or something? Do you need to come in?’ he asked worriedly. 

Percy went back to his usual pose, uncomfortably straight and stiff. They walked in the cottage silently. It was on a quiet street, large, riotous garden out back and airy ceilings on the inside. ‘Your house is nice,’ he said, softly. 

‘What happened?’ she asked, frowning suddenly. ‘Why’d you leave? I was worried. I had to get Oliver to tell me you were okay.’ 

Percy shrugged. ‘I was having a bad day and I couldn’t- it was too hard, you deserved better. I’m sorry.’

She studied him and then grinned broadly. ‘Apology accepted. We’re family, Percy, I’ll always be here.’ 

Percy blinked. He could argue, but Ginny was stubborn. She wouldn’t try to counter all his little protests of not good enough. 

‘Unconditionally,’ she added. That was the word. Unconditional love. 

‘I love you too.’ 

She cleared her throat awkwardly, looking around the room. ‘Fancy some tea?’ So she had inherited the Weasley stiff upper lip, this was a fluke brought on by her unstoppable desire to have a whole family. 

‘Tea sounds good,’ he agreed. ‘What flavours are there?’ 

Harry Potter lived in Godric’s Hollow, a house on the bigger side, with Hermione Granger and Percy’s little brother. He bundled up; it was getting colder. It was quite a nice opportunity to try out his new muggle disguise, the long black overcoat and tight pants. He’d even bought a new hat. He’d forgotten gloves, though. 

He snuck a glance over to 8th avenue, the street Ron lived on, but walked past, rubbing his hands together anxiously. He needed another second. Right, there was- cider over there, a little boy was selling hot cider. He hurried across the street, fishing his muggle money from his pocket. 

The boy perked up when he saw Percy. ‘Do you want some?’ he asked, lunging for a white cup and smiling big. He straightened up, putting on a professional face and straightening the big tie he had, probably stolen from his father’s closet. 

‘I would,’ Percy said, lips quirking to the side and revealing a smile. ‘Very professional set up you have here, young man. I like the sign.’ It was red and it had a basket of apples to the side. 

He beamed. ‘My sister made it, she’s really good at art!’ he blurted out, carefully pouring a cup. 

‘You remind me of myself. How old are you, now?’ he asked. The boy was small, next to Percy. He had to crouch down to get the cup and hand over the money. 

‘Oh, it’s- it’s just 50, you don’t…’ the boy trailed off, eyes round, as Percy pushed five quid over to him. 

‘It’s no problem.’ He smiled quickly, gabbing the cup. It warmed his hands as he slowly advanced down the street, away from the little boy. He arrived in front of the house, looking up at it. White siding, a red door and red shutters, evergreen trees in the yard and a couple scattered flower bushes without blooms. 

Granger opened the door, it was- terribly awkward to see her there, eyebrows raised. He could feel the way she judged him, eyes pricking over his skin. He vaguely remembered the days where she idealized him, looked up to him just because he was Head Boy. ‘Did you need something?’ she asked coldly. 

‘Who’se it, Herms?’ Ron shouted from further inside the house. His mouth was full, so the words were muffled. It was terrifically Ron. Percy remembered when he would eat handfuls of Dragon puffs and sit by Percy as they watched Charlie, Bill, and the twins play Quidditch. 

‘Ron seems to be in,’ Percy replied, equally chilly. 

‘Hey, is that Percy?’ Ron asked. His footsteps approached the door, and there he was. Rumpled hair, wrinkled t-shirt and jeans, a bag of muggle chips dangling from his hand. ‘Let him in, I’ve got this,’ he said quietly to Granger, nudging past her. She scanned him one last time before backing out of the doorway. 

He could already feel his palms sweating from stress. Percy cleared his throat. ‘Hello, Ron.’ 

‘Hey, Perce, you wanna come in? Hang your coat in the closet, one second, let me get the wrinkle spray,’ he said. 

‘Oh, I don’t- I don’t use that anymore.’ Percy had used six bottles a month when he was still at Hogwarts; he couldn’t believe Ron remembered. His obsessive habits were a joke.

‘That’s fine, then. Are you- well, I just wanted to apologize,’ he said, looking away to a smudged spot on the floor. ‘I know it’s not your job to forgive me, but I should apologize anyway.’ Percy blinked. It was the same thing he rattled off every time he thought he did something wrong, what he told Percy when tea had gotten over his favorite book and what he’d told him when he lost Scabbers. 

Percy just couldn’t believe that Ron fancied it his job to apologize. ‘It’s not you, Ron. You didn’t do a thing.’ Ron blinked, utterly surprised. 

‘Then why are you-’

Embarrassingly, tears were in Percy’s eyes ‘Because you deserve one, Ron, I’ve been a prat. I know you want me to be a certain way, more like you, but…’

‘That’s dad, if it’s anyone. I love you just the way you are.’ He advanced on socked feet with a single minded determination to where Percy stood, wrapping him in a soft hug. 

‘That’s nice of you.’ Percy sighed and rubbed Ron’s back, pressing a kiss to the top of his forehead. He was only barely taller than Ron, a scant inch or two. ‘I’m sorry no matter what, Ronnie.’ 

Ron made a face. ‘Ronnie? Who are you, Fred and George?’ He shook his head, backing into the house. ‘Want some tea? You like Earl Grey, don’t you? I’ll make up a pot.’ 

Percy huffed out a laugh, remembering Ginny. ‘Tea sounds lovely. Or, there’s a little boy down the street that’s selling cider?’ His voice wavered at the end. 

‘Sure. Let me grab my jacket.’ Ron pounded down the hallway and up the stairs, Percy looking after him. 

‘Don’t hurt him, right?’ Granger said sharply. Percy’s head snappedto her. 

‘I, I won’t.’ Her mouth twisted, but she walked off. 

Ron barreled back down the stairs, pulling his jacket on. ‘Ready to go?’ 

Percy smiled. ‘Sure.’ They left the house together. 

The twins are last, and since there are two of them, it’s only fair to bring his other half. Truthfully, he just needs the support. Ron’d had… a bit of a naive adoration of him before he turned eleven. And they’d been working together, too- Percy doesn’t think about work, that’s a subject left alone for now- so he knew the new Percy. Fred and George? Percy could barely recall a time when they weren’t at odds with each other. 

The twins lived above their shop, so it wasn’t hard to slip by the partition and up the spiral staircase. ‘The dogs would love them,’ Oliver joked, as they passed by a spinning toy and another one that smelled like the most delicious meal you could ever think of until you touched it, before it smelled like rotting garbage. Percy took a certain comfort in the fact that the prank he’d been the victim of so many times wasn’t a best-seller. The shelves were almost full. 

‘They would,’ Percy asked, leaning closer to inspect the stink bomb. 

‘Good memories?’ Oliver asked. 

Percy snorted. ‘Hardly.’ They continued through the room. Everything was a relic, here, old recipes for prank potions that turned into market ventures. He swallowed, reaching out to hold Oliver’s hand. 

‘This is the last one, right?’ Percy took a deep breath. Fred and George were the last ones. 

‘Percy!’ They opened the door before he could even knock. He couldn’t believe it, but he was smiling. He’d missed this insanity. He’d missed them. 

‘Oliver, how nice to see you again!’ Fred- it was Fred, he had both ears- butted in. 

‘How are the two of you doing?’ George cried,flinging the door wide open. 

Percy tentatively stepped inside. The room was colorful and pretty, big murals on the wall. Clumsily drawn, but pretty anyway. ‘I’m well. Oliver, what about you?’ he asked stiffly, as if he didn’t know how proud Oliver was feeling of his recent scores in Quidditch. 

Oliver’s lips twitched. ‘Quidditch season’s going well. Can I use your restroom?’ 

Now that he’d taken the leap, walked inside, Percy was meant to feel a little more even-footed, but all he could feel was dread. ‘Go ahead. It’s on the right.’ George wasn’t looking at Oliver, though, as he waved him away. 

Percy smiled wanly. ‘How are you?’

‘You’re here for a reason, aren”t you?’ Fred prompted him. Percy waited for the punchline. 

Instead of letting it hit him, he kept on. ‘I wanted to… apologize. I didn’t mean the things I said about you at the wedding,’ he said, holding his breath that they’d be understanding, or- or just accept. 

‘No problem at all,’ George said awkwardly, looking away. ‘Uh- I’m sorry too, we weren’t the best to you when we were kids.’ 

They sat in silence. ‘We have new candies!’ Fred blurted eventually. ‘Lemon ones, and they’ve let us stock chocolate frogs with joke cards. I’ll get some.’ He ran off, rattling around in the kitchen. 

‘He’s sorry, you know? He feels bad,’ George said in the silence. 

‘I’ll always love Fred,’ Percy offered. George’s smile turned light. 

‘I’m glad. Hey, Oliver! What’s so long in the bathroom?’ he hollered. Percy rolled his eyes, ripping off a strip of lemon stripe. 

‘Could we read your book, you reckon?’ Fred asked. ‘I heard it’s about ladies kissing.’ 

Inwardly, Percy cringed, but instead he sighed. ‘It isn’t very good. I’ll see if I can get you a copy.’ They all paused, let it soak in. It was awkward, stilted conversation, but soon Oliver could smooth it along. Soon, Percy would be home safe. He owed no one else an apology after this.

Languidly, Oliver stretched, the white covers revealing bare skin. Percy leant in to kiss it softly, welcoming him into the world of the living with a quiet kiss. He was feeling quiet today; the manic energy that the tour of apologies was all gone and he was depressed again. At least the feeling was familiar. 

‘I’ll get the breakfast started,’ Oliver grunted, heaving himself off of the bed and to the door. Scarlett and Beau must have heard him, because they scrambled in right away, vaulting onto the bed, tails wagging as they pushed their noses into his hands so he’d pet them. ‘Ave fun.’ 

Percy laughed softly, pulling his good girl over. Beau licked at his face and they settled in. He was tired, he wanted to sleep. Maybe he could write later- but he’d been telling himself that all week, and he hadn’t written a single word. It was so fucking easy to get lost here, adrift. The waves would just pull him along and he wouldn’t do a thing.

‘Uh, Perce?’ Oliver sounded panicked. Percy eyed the floor, knowing it would be best to stay on the cushy mattress for as long as possible. ‘Percy!’ 

Beau leapt off the bed, nails scrabbling against the floor as he sprinted down the stairs. Scarlett wasn’t far behind. Now Percy was absent a bed partner and a best friend. ‘What, Oliver?’ he asked with an exasperated huff. 

‘Get dressed and come down here, you have a visitor,’ he said, voice slightly cold. 

Percy followed his directions, shrugging on a handsome purple robe and his house slippers. ‘Who is it, though?’ he asked as he continued down the stairs, stopping just shy of the doorframe. 

He had his answer. Arthur Weasley, in his proud, stout glory, looked back at him. ‘I’ve come to apologize.’ 

Percy’s mouth made an O. Oliver backed away, back to the kitchen. ‘What?’ he whispered, eyes shiny. He swallowed. 

‘I’m apologizing, Percy,’ his dad said gruffly. 

The sun was out a little that morning, though it was still cold, and the robes kept him warm. His dad looked… genuine. Stout, angry- but not at Percy, not really- and deeply sorry. Percy sighed. He’d gotten very good at giving apologies, and now it was time to receive. Arthur smiled tentatively. 

‘I’ll make us a pot of tea,’ he said, leading him inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so tired honestly but I'm adding a continuation to the one story I can't change (but I can lose my loneliness) if anyone wants to read that. comments!! I really like those idk. Percy's depression has sort of settled down but he was really on a spiral. idk.
> 
> also if you're subscribed to me as an author you should probably unsubscribe because I'm abandonng this fandom.


End file.
